Not a Problem
by Kritty3311
Summary: If Brandon got therapy, would it help him or hurt the therapist?
1. Chapter 1

Brandon sat uncomfortably in the waiting room although there didn't seem to have been any expense spared to make the waiting room as comfortable as possible. No month old expired magazines spread on the tables. No annoying TV playing stale talk shows. Coffee table books and leather bound volumes could be found here and there. Soft spa music could be heard, flameless candles "burned" and there was a soft fruity fragrance in the air. Everything meant to induce a calming relaxing atmosphere. Brandon hated it.

More to the point he hated being here. It was part of the stipulation for him to return to work, counseling. Never mind to the fact he knew he did not need it, never mind he knew this would not change his attitude or behavior. But that's not what they were looking for was it? They weren't expecting him to complete his required 120 hours. They expected him not to finish and to go away quietly. He had technically only finished 15 hours, however he was also through 5 different therapists. Dr. Samantha Geist, was his 6th and first woman. He imagined what she would look like, most likely over weight, old, ugly and depressing.

He looked towards the receptionist. She sat typing on her computer. She had barely given Brandon a cursory glance when he first walked in. But after he checked in, once he had her attention, she had developed new ways to look at him out of the corners of her eye. He noticed the looks and returned them, but wasn't trying to be subtle about it the way she was. She started to flush. He could tell what she was thinking. He knew the look and had seen it before. He could never completely understand the need for game that lead up to the inevitable but on occasion he did enjoy it.

Currently the receptionist was weighing the possible scenarios. Would they be able to steel away? Where would they go? Would they have time? Would they get caught? But getting caught was most of the fun he thought and smiled from it. She happened to be looking at him at that moment and smiled with him. She was his.

"Brandon?" The doctor chose that moment to walk into the waiting room.

"Yes," he said smiling standing up. He took one last look at the receptionist before sticking out his hand to the doctor.

"Samantha Geist," she said shaking his hand. "You can call me whatever you feel comfortable with, Dr. Geist or Sam is fine." She explained

He didn't think he would be with her that long for it to make a difference what he called her. She wasn't at all what he expected. She was black or most likely mulatto. She had light curly brown hair with gold highlights. Her eyes were a beautiful light brown almost gold, a color he hadn't seen before. She was about his height and curvy. She was handsomely beautiful. His mind quickly flashed an image of her topless with her hair cascading down her back, a look of pure ecstasy on her face. His smile broadened at the thought of putting that look on her face. The next image his mind conjured up was of her head in his lap, her hair splayed, covering the important parts, taking the image from NC17 to maybe PG13, if the censors were in a good mood that day.

She motioned to her office.

"Please come in," she stepped aside so he could walk in ahead of her. He missed the look she gave the secretary.

He stepped into her office and was surprised yet again. The décor of the office didn't necessarily match the waiting room however it again contained comforting sights. The doctor's couch was a huge comfortable sectional. There was of course a chaise lounge. Two oversized chairs with a small table between them set up in front of the windows that over looked a brilliant view of the city.

"The view must be spectacular at night," he said nodding towards the windows.

"It is lovely," she agreed. She hung back by the door waiting for him to decide where he would sit.

He was impressed with the doctor and the size of the office. It was not what he had expected at all. Most of the doctors he had seen were exactly as he had expected. Stuffed shirts who didn't know what they were talking about. Small offices with smaller minds. Two had tried to sympathize with him, one doctor was immediately prejudice against him, and one pretended to be a recovering sex addict himself, of course Brandon didn't believe for a moment _he_ was addicted to sex. So speaking to someone who claimed to be a recovering one was counterproductive, and he told him so, in less than kind terms, which lead him here. Although now that he was here, he was sure it was some kind of mistake, surely they didn't expect him to tell his "problems" to this woman. Not when he couldn't stop thinking about how she would taste.

He looked around for her and realized she was waiting for him.

"Where should I sit?" he asked.

"Where ever you feel comfortable." She answered.

"Is it all about my comfort?" he asked.

"It is how the office was designed."

"Proud of it?" he asked his tone was mocking.

She smiled and shook her head. "I actually share this space with a few other doctors," she explained.  
"We each see patients on different days. The design is not my own." She walked over to the chairs in front of the windows and sat down in one. He instinctively sat in the chair opposite her. "Why don't you tell me why you're here," she suggested.

"I would think you would know." He said a little sharply, picking up chocolate from the bowl on the table, unwrapping it and popping the candy into his mouth.

"I have the other doctor's summaries and I have other notes. But I would prefer to speak with you to get an understanding of how you feel."

He flattened the wrapper from the candy on his slacks, careful to smooth out all of the wrinkles. He then spent a considerable amount of time folding the wrapper into a small perfect square. He placed it on the table between them. Looked up at her and smiled.

"I don't know why I'm here." He said flatly.

"Can you at least tell me why you think you're here?" Brandon avoided her gaze. He looked out towards the window. His appointment was a late day one and the sun was just setting. Although not directly in line, you could see the sun setting beautifully. He thought there was at least a few days out of the year where the sun set directly in the window and it lit up the office brilliantly.

"I guess," he started, but paused. "I guess my lifestyle makes some uncomfortable."

"Are you comfortable with it?"

"Of course, it's what I chose for myself."

"So, no reservations? Any idea why others are uncomfortable with your behavior?"

"No reservations. I would think others are jealous. They see a beautiful woman like yourself and can only wish they could have you."

"You feel differently?"

He sat back into his chair smiling. Brandon's eyes looked her up and down from head to toe. If he were to have her, it wouldn't be easy. Not impossible, he thought, just not easy.

She shifted , sat up and leaned toward him.

"I think we should come to an understanding, I'm here to do my best to help you, if that is what you think you need. We should move forward with the assumption that we will be spending an hour with each other every two weeks. We will be talking in our sessions, nothing more."

"Talking?"

"Yes, talking. It's up to you what we talk about."

"Anything?" She nodded the affirmative.

"Do you have patients who are sex addicts?" he asked settling back into the chair.

"I treat patients with a number of problems."

"That's a very evasive answer."

She smiled, "I would much rather talk with you. I'm interested in what you have to say. Not really discussing my other patients which I cannot talk about anyway."

"I fucked a woman before coming here." While it was true he did have a quick tryst in the bathroom of the restaurant where he had lunch, why he chose to tell her and why he selected such a harsh terms to describe it he was unsure.

"How do you feel about that?"

"Would you like me to describe it for you?" he asked a mischievous smile played on his mouth.

"It is not necessary however if you would feel better I can allow you _some_ leeway."

"I thought this was our time together, if I wanted to describe the way she clawed at my back as she came, why wouldn't you want to hear that?" He looked straight at her as he said this, refusing to break eye contact.

"Does it excite you to describe to me what happened?" He snorted, typical shrink. Everything was a question.

"I think you would kick me out if you knew what excited me." Again the mischievous smile played on his lips.

"Are you usually this open about your ventures?"

She was selecting her words carefully. He was intrigued and wanted to know if this was something she did out of habit or did it come naturally. But more importantly he was interested in finding out how she felt and tasted. He picked up another candy from the bowl. This time instead of popping it directly into his mouth he played the candy around his lips and tongue, taking a slow bite from it, letting the sweetness play in his mouth. He looked around the office and tried to keep careful eye on the window reflection. She didn't stop looking at him. She was just as interested in him, as he was in her.

"Can I ask you a few things?" He nodded, whether he chose to answer them, that would be the rub, wouldn't it?

"Could you tell me how many women you've slept with or do you think you would need to estimate it?"

He shifted his eyes down. He thought for a moment to tell her a lie but decided against it. "I would have to estimate."

"How about this week, could you give me a number for the week?"

"8" he confirmed with a small bit of hesitation.

"Do you only sleep with women?" She asked her questions mater-of-factly. She was looking for information but he still wanted to treat it as a game so he didn't answer right away. Instead he stood up and walked away from her stopping in front of a bookcase, putting his attention for the moment into reading the titles.

"Brandon, does this mean you don't want to answer the question?"

"I find pleasure in both sexes."

"Do you masturbate?" again a clinical question.

"Yes" he said not turning around.

"Do you think it gets in the way of your life?"

"Masturbation?"

"All of it, any of it. Your current life style."

"I don't think I have answer for that."

"Did you want me to know anything else today Brandon?"

He smiled at her looked over to the wide sectional, and then shook his head. "No, I cannot think of a thing."

"Let's end today. I would like you to think of the direction you would like our sessions to take." She said standing up. "I'm aware of your history with the past doctors. If I let me help you I think I can, if you don't want my help then we should talk about other options."

He had no other "options" and he was a little off put by her insinuation. But he nodded his agreement.

"Certainly."

"Have a good day Brandon."

"You as well Samantha."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II

"It's a beautiful view." Brandon breathed. Dr. Geist looked up from her notebook to the window. The day was just beginning, traffic and people moved quickly outside crowding the streets and sidewalks.

"Yes, I do enjoy the view from up here, not too high but just high enough. It's one of my favorite scenes," she confessed. She looked over a Brandon to confirm. He was staring at her intently. She realized he again was using one of his double entendres, not actually looking at the city view at all. She decided not to respond and moved on instead.

"I must admit Brandon, I'm a little surprised to see you here." Dr. Geist confessed.

"Really," he questioned, "Why exactly is that?"

"You've stacked up quite a reputation for cancellations, last minute reschedules and missed appointments." she stated casually. "I usually don't like to read reports I see from other doctors, too many preconceived notions. I like to form my own opinion of my patients instead of relying on others."

He continued to smile, slightly embarrassed. It was true he didn't always keep the appointments. Sitting in this office regardless of how beautiful the view was, was the last thing he wanted to do. Trying to keep constant appointments was a burden. But for some reason, he couldn't quite explain to himself the need he had to keep his date with her. Maybe that is what helped, thinking of it as a date. He changed the subject instead.

"You have a new secretary," the smile that played on his lips switched to a devilish grin.

"Administrative assistant," she corrected. "They no longer appreciate being referred to as secretaries. Why do you think I have a new assistant Brandon?"

"I couldn't fathom." He said he feigned innocence and tried to remove the smile that continued to tug at the corners of his mouth. Dr. Geist waited for Brandon to continue but he didn't, he sat defiantly waiting for her to admit what happened.

"How do you feel about it Brandon?" She asked leaning back in her chair and biting the rough edges of her nail that had ripped earlier. She didn't feel the need to indulge him on this.

"I don't have an opinion." He said shaking his head and plucking a piece of lint off his pant leg. "I guess I should feel bad if I am responsible for her termination."

"But you don't really?" He smiled at the memory of the feel of her skin, of her smell. He had her easily enough, minutes after he left his appointment with Dr. Geist. She screamed his name as he took her from behind. Something he may have returned if he had bothered to learn hers. He felt no guilt or remorse in his actions and even less if he was in fact responsible for her termination.

"No," he confessed, shaking his head. It actually felt better telling her the truth. "I guess I hadn't considered the consequences,"

"Do you ever?"

"The quick answer, yes. The honest answer, no not really."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I'm sure it has some deeper meaning," he said. "I'm sure you are reading all sorts of things into it right now."

"Let's do each other this courtesy," she offered. "Don't try to assume what I'm thinking and I will try not to assume what you are thinking, agreed?"

He looked at her and nodded.

"I understand you have a sister. Can you tell me about her?"

"I don't want to talk about her." He said, suddenly uncomfortable. He stood up from the chair and walked over to the other side of the room.

"Can I ask why?"

"I just don't want to talk about her."

"What would you like to talk about?"

"I don't know." He said moving around the office looking at the different items around the room. He finally settled down on the oversized sofa. "Come sit with me."

She instead swung the chair she was sitting in around. His mind ran to a the wild thought of her in a 'Basic Instinct' pose, legs spread, seeing just a hint of hair and folds of sweet skin that sit underneath.

"I think you will find our sessions go much better and you will feel much better if you remember our relationship together is strictly platonic, doctor patient."

He moved off of the deep couch, struggling to make it look effortless. It was difficult since the couch was made more for comfort and the cushions sank deep when you sat down. But he managed it and he chose the ottoman that was across from her chair. The position allowed him to sit lower than her by a few inches so he had to look up at her while her eyes shifted down to him. He looked at her, enjoying the color of her eyes again, he struggled not to take her hand although it was a fight not to do so. Touch is a strong sensation, a powerful aphrodisiac. She would have begged him if he touched her but he played it cautiously.

"But what if I don't want to get you out of my head?" He asked leaning into her breaking the wall of her personal space, pushing his breath into her face. "What if I enjoy spending my time wondering what you taste like? Are you bitter, sweet, salty? Are you wet right now?" He lowered and deepened his voice, moved his eyes up and down her body.

"Brandon."

"I want to feel you with my fingers, with my tongue." Brandon's hand actually moved slightly towards her legs, she hadn't recrossed them and they were parted with just enough room for him to move his hand through, but he stopped just short of touching her. "I want to touch you with every part of me."

"Brandon!"

"I want to crush you underneath me." He leaned in even closer so all he could see was her eyes smell the cream she used on her face, the mint from her mouthwash. "I want to have you on top of me, underneath me, standing, sitting down. I want to invent new positions with you."

"BRANDON!" Dr. Geist abruptly stood up, it pushed Brandon off balance. He grabbed the side of the cushion to steady himself.

"I think that will be all for today Brandon," she walked to the door and stood waiting for him to join her.

"I'm sure we still have some more time." He said hopefully, producing his widest smile for her. She stood stoically, not returning his smile. She would have made a great royal palace guard he thought, smiling wider.

"I'm sure we are done for the day Brandon."

"Was it something I said?" he asked attempting to turn on his innocent charm.

She didn't answer. She continued to stand at the office door waiting for him. He stood up, smoothed his shirt and pants, and met her at the door.

"Until next time."

"We don't we try to focus on something different next time." His eyes moved to her breasts, wishing the buttons on her shirt were not buttoned quite that high.

"Sure." He answered slowly.

She closed the door behind him. She stood leaning against the door, trying to move his words and the images they conjured up out of her head. She pressed her legs together, fighting the urge to use her hand to take care of her itch. He cannot affect her like this, if he does then she could never help him. She couldn't cross the line.

Brandon stood on the other side of the door regretting his words and actions, but only a little.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III

Brandon stood in front of the window, watching the summer thunder storm wash the city. The rain patted against the glass of the windows knocking like it wanted in. Several flashes of lighting lit up the sky, quickly followed by roars of thunder that rattled the building.

"Did I tell you my parents died in a summer storm similar to this?" Brandon asked turning towards Dr. Geist. She sat in the corner of the sectional, her legs pulled up underneath her in a more comfortable position. They moved the frequency of his appointments to once a week, he was now familiar with the view from her window, the soft spa sounds that were pumped into the office and he was getting comfortable around her. Getting used to the feeling that he wanted her but knowing he couldn't.

"No, you haven't told me much about your parents, when did they pass?"

Brandon's eyes took on a soft faraway look. He walked over and joined her on the sofa. First sitting then laying down on the chaise lounge. He kicked off his shoes and settled back into the cushions.

"This has got to be one of the softest sofa's I've ever been on." He remarked turning towards her.

"We pay extra to have clouds imported in." she smiled at him.

"I think you have soft cushions on purpose so your clients fall asleep, then when they wake up they feel better and they think you helped."

"You discovered my plan." He was silent again. She watched him noting how his face took on a quiet, sad look. She was about to ask if he wanted to talk about something else or keep with his parents when he started his tale.

"They were coming back early from a weekend get-away they had planned. It was their anniversary, 10th or 15th I think. My dad was driving, the roads were wet, slick and winding. There was an accident." He fell silent. She sensed there was more and waited before asking a question.

He looked to her again, "No comments?"

"It didn't feel like you were finished."

His face dropped and looked sadder still, a quality Dr. Geist didn't think was possible.

"What's wrong?"

"They were coming back because of me. Well because of us, well," he paused again. "Because of my sister."

"Why is that?"

"They were away for the weekend, we were staying with my aunt." He stood up from the couch and went over to the chairs. He sat for a few minutes then went back to the window and pressed his check to the cool glass.

"I wanted to go out, but my aunt was having none of it." He muffled into the glass. "I used to be very pig headed." He turned to her again, expecting a comment that she didn't voice.

"My sister followed. She was always following me. Always following me no matter what I did." He pushed off the window and started pacing the room. He couldn't seem to stay still while telling his story.

"She didn't even know where I was going, what I was doing, she just followed me." Brandon's voice started to raise, his hands balled into fists, pacing faster. "Auntie Parke panicked, she was always prone to exaggeration. My parents knew this, but they still drove back." He stopped pacing and again went back to the window, thunked his head against the glass and slid down until he was sitting on the floor.

"Do you blame your sister for this?"

"NO," then after a pause, "Yes." Then after another longer one, "No." He shook his head. "I, I" he stuttered. "My parents were very odd. I don't think they liked me very much, the only reason they were coming back that day was because of my sister. If it were just me that was missing they would have…" he trailed off.

"Why do you feel that way?" Dr. Geist questioned.

He shook his head once and shrugged again. He started to fidget on the floor stood up and walked a loop around the room.

"I'm sure it feels sometimes that we don't have the love and support we are looking for or when we need it."

"Are you going to tell me my parents loved me? That I'm exaggerating my painful past?"

"I cannot tell you how your parents felt since I never met them and I don't mean to assume, however it's been my experience that most parents do love their children. Sometimes they love the only way they know how and it's not always how you would expect. People can also love but not like what they love."

He looked over to where she sat, wanting to believe her words but feeling another way for so long unable to accept them. He pressed that time in his life so far down deep within his mind it was a struggle to bring it back up. Was he even remembering everything right? Sissy's breath in his face, the wet salt of tears on her cheeks. The smell of the strawberry lip gloss she wore. Why did he remember that taste?

"Brandon," she said softly in an attempt to get his attention. He looked over to her again, the expression on his face made it appear he had forgotten she was in the room. He crossed the room in three quick steps and stopped in front of her. She looked up at him quizzically then stood up almost matching his height.

"Are you going to be OK?" She asked this but didn't think he looked OK at all, he looked ready to explode. He instead suddenly reached out and grabbed her arms, he pulled her roughly towards him and pressed his lips onto hers. She struggled against him twisting her arms out of his grasp but once she had an arm free he would grab her hand, once she had the hand free he would grab the shoulder. He crushed against her, pulling her into his body. She fought back against him.

"Brandon please." He ignored her and covered her mouth in kisses instead in an attempt to silence her protests. She could feel him against her. His rock hard member perfectly lined up against her own sensitive area. His hands were groping against her, he was up under her shirt his fingers brushed her nipples to attention. Then suddenly his hands were up under her skirt, pulling her panties aside pushing his fingers inside.

She changed tactics and grabbed his arm with both of her hands. She stepped back, twisted his arm and in a surprising move flipped him. His feet caught on the ottoman but his back was on the floor.

"Brandon, are you OK? I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt you." She put out her hand in an attempt to help him up, which he batted away. She left him and walked over to the desk in the office and sat down behind it. Once there she righted her clothes. He had gotten surprisingly far very quickly.

He lay on the floor breathing heavily for a moment. Not sure what had just happened or what he thought about it. He recognized the move as a mistake, not just because he was laying bent on the floor. His frustration had to be vented somewhere and she had said on countless occasions she was here to help him and it would have helped.

He stayed still on the floor, his heart was slowly returning to its normal pace and he waited for her to dismiss him as quickly as she had when he went too far. Brandon waited for it and expected it.

He could still feel her on his skin, still had the taste of her in his mouth. He brought his fingers to his lips, he could taste her there as well. What he had done was impulsive and a little unlike him. He typically didn't force himself on a woman, he hadn't needed too. Talk a little more, push a little more but never force. Was the memory of his parents death that destructive to him?

He picked himself up off the floor, smoothing his clothes, tucking his shirt, slipping his feet back into his shoes and running fingers through is hair. He didn't look towards her, afraid to look in her eyes to see embarrassment on her that he was feeling. He walked to the door and got as far as his hand on the knob.

"Brandon," she said stopping him mid turn.

"What is it?" he asked keeping is head down.

"You shouldn't-" She stopped unsure what to say. He waited a moment and nodded his head when it was clear she wasn't going to say anything else and left her office.

He walked to the elevator, pressed the call button and waited. When the elevator arrived he stepped inside. He ignored the tall blond that was already there. She had seen him before but was with a coworker and couldn't admire Brandon in the same way he had admired her on that day. Today she had no such burden but he seemed so preoccupied she didn't think he even knew she was there. She smiled at him and flipped her hair in an attempt to get his attention, but he stood silently with his head down. When the elevator arrived at the lobby he walked off the elevator without a glance back. She was a little disappointed but held hope that she would see him again.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV

"And let's see here," Ezra said lifting the next manila folder from the pile. "Next we have Brandon Sullivan?"

"Yes" Sam responded.

"It doesn't look like you have any notes from his last appointment, which was what about," he flipped through the pages, "3 weeks ago?"

"Yeah,"

"Are you going to tell me why or just continue to affirm what I say?"

Sam looked out of the window. The New York skyline was just turning on its light show. Buildings had all their pretty lights on as if they were dressed up for a party. If Brandon had appreciated the view during the day he would have loved the view at night. Sam finished the last of the amber liquid in her glass and stood up to refill it.

"Please stop putting ice in it," Ezra cried again. "You are ruining a perfectly good scotch when you do that." she dropped the ice in anyway 2 pieces almost to spite him.

He sighed heavily and looked back down at the folder.

Ezra Baker, Samantha Geist and Holland Benson shared the office space and the joint practice. Each month they would get together and consult on cases they felt needed additional review or to discuss a prognosis. Benson was on sabbatical and had been for the past 6 months but Ezra and Sam would still get together although Sam would eventually tire of his condescending looks and attitude and only present a fraction of the cases she had to make the meetings shorter. It was easier when Holland was around he was always able to squash Ezra's self-righteousness. The down side however was there was less chance of Sam and Ezra ending the night in bed together. They had been in a relationship in the past but neither saw it moving anywhere and it ended almost as quickly as it began. However Sam could almost always get him into bed when she needed too.

The sex was great there was never a question of that. He fucked like a truck, big, hulking and all night. The problem was always beforehand. He could never seem to stop himself from saying just the right thing that turned her off. She wasn't sure if he did this to everyone or if it was a gift he brought out exclusively for her, but it was almost always inevitable he would say or do something that killed the mood. Now he was going to bring up a person and case she had no desire to discuss right now. She didn't even remember including Brandon's file with her list of cases she wanted to present. She hadn't seen him since the incident, but it didn't stop her from thinking of him every now and again.

"Sam". He said calling her back from the daydream she seemed to go into. "Are we going to ignore the gorilla in the room?"

"I don't know you are talking about."

"Well right now we are not talking about anything. I'm trying to get you to talk to me."

She walked back over to the couch and let out an exasperated sigh. "There was a little hiccup in our last session."

"What kind of hiccup?"

"It was a misunderstanding" Ezra waited. There was the condescending look that practically guaranteed he'd be working it alone tonight. Sam relented and gave him the abbreviated highlights of their last appointment, stopping a short of exactly where his fingers were last.

"And?"

"And nothing else."

"Well I know you are leaving out something."

"Oh good his smug face," she thought.

"Also I'm sure you told him you would no longer be treating him?" she smiled and looked down "Honestly Sam you amaze me. Still think you can solve everyone's problems or do you think you can solve just his?" He threw down the file picked up his own glass and downed the contents.

"You've always had this problem, not everyone can be helped. Sometimes it's just a puzzle you can't put back together. I could report you." He said with no real conviction.

"I haven't done anything. I haven't seen him as a patient since. There is nothing to report."

"If you saw him again I could."

"But I don't think you will and I don't think I would see him again. He broke the last appointment he had scheduled and hasn't attempted to schedule another." Although Ezra could be a dick on occasion doing any real damage to her was beyond him. He had his own misunderstandings that didn't look good on paper.

"Has anyone asked for his records?" She shook her head. It didn't necessarily mean anything, quite a few doctors didn't feel it necessary to consult other doctor's notes. It was possible that if he was seeing a new doctor Brandon could have failed to mention his sessions with Sam for the same reason he left.

She and Ezra feel silent, each contemplating the next course of action. Ezra walked over to the small set up they had, tiny fridge with a simple freezer and refilled his own glass, sans ice.

"This isn't my first rodeo," She said breaking the silence. "I do know what I'm doing."

The smirk returned to his face. "There are a few things I know about you Sam, you think you know what you're doing and damn it if you don't. And you also think you can fix the world."

"I don't think I can fix the world," she said pouting.

"Of course you do, it's one of the adorable things about you." He sat back on the couch and closed the gap between them. He took a lock of her hair and twirled it around his fingers.

"Stop it, I'm not sofa king you in the office."

"We can't go back to my place," he said nuzzling her neck and undoing the buttons on her blouse. "Nancy's back from the conference and you live to far."

She stood up, pushing him off of her. She picked up the files from the coffee table in front of them and walked over to the file cabinets to put them away. She thought about what he said, she didn't feel she could fix the entire world, just the part of it she met.

Another, and another, and another nameless girl in his bed again. Curvy hips, curly hair, striking eyes. Sometimes they had two, most time they had all three. Brandon had subconsciously developed a type. Once he recognized he had one and realized what was happening, he then purposely sought the opposite but it would do no good, whoever he was with, her face would inevitably turn into Samantha's. He could not forget about her and didn't think he wanted to.

Apologies crossed his mind. He had tried to call her office a few times, but was unable to get himself to do it. The secretary, (administrative assistant) would have answered and he wouldn't have spoken directly to Samantha but he didn't. He couldn't make that call.

She more than crossed his mind. She seemed to have stayed over, left her tooth brush and a change of clothes. He would wake, eat and sleep with thoughts of her. He spent a tremendous amount of time trying to figure out what happed that day that elicited such a response out of him, but his mind was fickle and wouldn't visit that time in his life again.

He suddenly wanted the woman in his bed gone. He needed her out.

"You can leave now" he offered, pushing up off and out of her. He found an undershirt and slipped it on.

"Excuse me?"

"Get out." he said a little more forcefully. He reached down found her underwear and threw it to her. "Now please."

"Why you pompous fucking prick," she continued with the obscenities as she got dressed, as he led her to the door of his apartment and as she walked out to the elevator. For all he knew she was most likely continuing her tirade as she walked back to the little bistro where he picked her up. He neither wanted to know nor cared to know.

Brandon stood naked from the waist down looking out over the lights of the city. The view from his apartment was not the same as from her office building but when he felt nostalgic for her, he would come here and other times he would cum here. Tonight he would think, think of ways to get back with her, or get rid of her out of his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter V

The bar in the restaurant was too crowded. Brandon was continuously pushed up against an ugly blond wearing too much perfume. He could tell from the way she pushed back against him she wasn't bothered by the intrusion. There may have been a time when he would have indulged her, where he may even have indulged himself but not today, not now.

Brandon didn't appreciate the pretentious of the place, a new Japanese/American fusion. It was full of opening week patrons, the crowd would be a fraction of what it currently was in just 3 weeks and Brandon would have preferred the crowd then but David chose the restaurant and they were here to talk about getting Brandon back to work so he didn't argue. David insisted he could get a table and left Brandon bumping against the blond. He tired of her perfume and bad bleach job and moved away from her just as she was about to push back against him, she stumbled and fell into a waiter walking by with a drink tray getting soaked in the process. Brandon moved swiftly further towards the bar when he paused.

There she was again or at least another woman who looks like her. He had a silent argument with himself to ignore the fake Samantha. He needed to stop substituting her in his life but he moved forward regardless. Just one more look. He stopped short when he realized it was her. Her dirty blond curls tamed into a pony tail that rested on her shoulders. She wore a baby blue sleeveless blouse that crisscrossed in the front giving anyone who cared to look a perfect view of the soft swell of her breasts. As he stepped closer he could smell the familiar sweetness of her perfume.

"Hello Samantha," Brandon smiled, coming next to her and leaning on the bar.

She looked up from her cell phone and smiled warmly. It touched her eyes and made his breath catch in his throat. He had been mistaken about her eyes. The color was indeed blue, but she had a light brown, almost golden ring on the inside of the iris and a black ring circling the outside. How could he have missed the coloring in her eyes and tried so hard to see it in someone else? Was he that eager to see her again? He couldn't stop the hand that reached out and caressed her arm. It slid down the smooth forever tan skin towards her elbow. She shivered visibly and goose flesh broke out on her skin.

"Are you cold?" he asked smiling wider knowing the temperature in the bar wasn't what made her shiver.

"No, it, no," she said smiling back. She adjusted her arm causing his to slide further down her forearm to her wrist, she then placed her own hand on his wrist.

"It's good to see you," Brandon moved in close to her and spoke next to her ear to prevent having to scream over the din of the bar.

"I've been concerned about you," she answered.

"Concerned," he questioned. She didn't say thinking, she said concerned, it had a motherly intonation to it. He pushed in closer to her and she eagerly accepted him. "I've wanted to see you," he said to her into her ear, his nose brushing her cheek, his breath tickling her ear.

"I don't know if that's a good idea." She made no attempt to pull back from him nor did she remove her hand from his arm.

"What if I needed you?" Samantha's hear began to race, the bar and the people around them seemed to melt away. In truth she had been thinking about him, the argument she had with Ezra about him, their last appointment together, the taste of his lips, and the feel of his skin. She had attempted to convince herself that she would eventually see his name on the appointment list and each day she would be discouraged when she didn't see it. Of course it was most likely best she didn't see him.

Brandon moved his lips from her ear and looked directly at her he was inches from her lips, close enough to kiss, when a glass broke and a drink spilled bringing them both back to the bar. They shifted uncomfortably for a moment.

"What have you been doing?" she asked

"Roaming, without purpose." He answered only half kidding.

She raised her eyebrows at him, it was a look he had forgotten he missed. She rummaged through a small handbag she had sitting on the bar, she took out a business card and a pen, scribbled on the back of it and handed it to him.

"One of the other doctors from my practice offers group therapy sessions on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, it may be a better option for you than the wandering."

"Roaming," he corrected taking the card. She watched as he gave the writing a cursory glance and as he slipped it into his pocket. Her eyes lingered a bit too long on the swell on the front of his pants.

"But what if I need you?" he questioned.

"Use the card Brandon."

Brandon leaned into her again and was about to say something when David arrived.

"Brandon! I'm gone for a few moments and you manage to find the prettiest woman in here buddy!" he slapped Brandon on the back as he said this. He then turned to Samantha.

"David, this is," Brandon hesitated a moment, "Samantha Geist," he finished.

"My God, please tell me you are a thief because you have stolen my breath away." He picked up her hand that she had fallen from Brandon's wrist and kissed her fingers. Brandon rolled his eyes at the horrible pickup line. Samantha shook her own head a little.

"Has that line worked often?" she asked.

"It has on occasion. Please tell me you will be joining us for dinner?" he kept hold of her hand resting it on his chest and stroking her knuckles as she stumbled for words.

"No really, I couldn't, I don't want to interrupt," Sam's eyes flashed to Brandon but he was of little help. A mixture of curiosity and jealously ran through him jocking for dominance. Surely Samantha wouldn't fall for David's stale pickup lines or gigolo charm. The memory of Sissy and David ran through his mind. It would serve him right to see her slip through his fingers. Surely if anyone should have her though, it would be him.

"Brandon and I would love to have you." David explained letting the comment lay heavily in the air.

"Who could say no to such and invitation?" She asked.

"No one," Brandon answered, looking up at her. He had dropped his head when David began making his clever comments, his eyes looked up at Samantha without moving his head. The effect that made him look like a misbehaving school boy, knowing he would get his way.

"I am actually unable to, I do apologize, maybe some other time." said pulling her hand back from David.

"One drink, one drink and I'll let you go." David said placing his hands in a prayer pose.

"You may actually regret asking, I have a bad habit of breaking conversation."

" 'Breaking conversation' I don't believe I've ever heard that before," David laughed. He waved to the bartender to get his attention. "How does someone break a conversation?" he asked.

"Years of practice," she teased and looked over to Brandon. She studied him closely, trying to judge how he felt about her agreeing to a drink. She felt it would have been worse if she had agreed to dinner plus she was curious about Brandon's friends it would help get into his mind a little more. She thought how it would help unlock the room where he kept his emotions.

"Can I help you?" The bartender asked.

"Three glasses of Churchill's Finest" Brandon ordered for them. Samantha looked over to him.

"Great idea, great idea, now you'll be forced to spend a little time with us," David said nodding, "No one can chug a good beer." He placed a hand on her bare shoulder with a familiarity that she didn't appreciate.

"So tell me how you know our dear Brandon." Samantha and Brandon exchanged glances. She would like Brandon dictate how much information he would give.

"Samantha and I," he explained looking quickly back and forth between Sam and David, "We go way back don't we?"

"Yes, all the way back to the spring." She picked up her drink and sipped.

"So a long time, look don't let this guy fool you he's a heartbreaker. He'll love you and leave you. A woman like you needs a man who can appreciate your finer points." He was looking down her shirt while he said this.

Samantha picked up her glass and in a maneuver Brandon wasn't sure how it was managed, she slipped off her bar stool, stepped on David's shoe and spilled the majority of the glass on his pants.

"What the-" David screamed. Brandon fought with his face in an effort to suppress the smile that was hiding there.

"My God, I'm so sorry," she apologized taking a small cocktail napkin and attempted to use it to sop up his trousers. She placed the small square over his fly in an attempt to mitigate the damage.

"It was my fault," he said, putting up his hand and allowed the grooming. "I don't think that napkin is going to cut it though. I'll be back, I need to take care of this with something a little bigger." He excused himself.

Samantha stepped back over to Brandon.

"I think you did that on purpose," he accused.

"I don't think that will ever hold up in court," she said smiling. "Thank you for the drink Brandon." She squeezed his arm. "Brandon, please use the card."

"Have a good night Samantha." He admired the view as he watched her go.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter VI

"I would like to welcome Brandon to the group."

"Hello Brandon," was echoed through the all circle of people. Brandon looked around the eclectic group of people sitting in a semicircle and shook his head at the surrealness of it. It was a small group 3 men 2 woman plus the good doctor Ezra Baker. Brandon was a little surprised by the group, it wasn't what he had expected. Brandon had reluctantly called the number on the card Samantha had written down. He had even more reluctantly showed up for the group session but with no real hope in this group being any different from any other therapy session he had attempted in the past. He did it to please Samantha. Why that was important he still wasn't sure. Was it that crucial that he get back in her good graces? And did he feel it necessary to put up with the humiliation of this group of people to do it? He would soon find out.

"Now Brandon, we do appreciate you being here but we would like to take this time to let you know and it's a good reminder for everyone that we do try to start at 5:30. Getting here late can interrupt the other members of the group during a crucial break through. But we are glad you are here." Dr. Ezra spoke with his hands, using one finger to point high in the air while the others were pointing towards Brandon. The implication was clear, Brandon was the "bad guy" we will forgive him for this error, for now.

"I do apologize. I'll be sure to make it on time in the future." He had only been here 5 minutes and he was already being reprimanded.

"With that out of the way why don't we see if anyone wants to share? Winston last time you started to share about your adjustments back to the states from your tour in Afghanistan."

"I don't want to talk about that dead horse." Winston crossed his arms and pouted. Brandon wasn't sure if this was something done for his benefit or if this was his usual behavior. Winston reminded Brandon of a typical soldier, stocky with fat muscles pressing through his shirt. A tattoo sat high on his arm partially obstructed by his short sleeves. Brandon couldn't be sure but he believed it was some type of bird.

"Well Winston we've spoken about this before you can't change unless you want to. We are all friends here and won't judge. Adjustments are difficult, I'm sure we've all had to be adjustments in one way or another"

"I don't know," Winston said shrugging. "Over there it didn't seem like I knew anything, didn't feel like I knew anything. Everything was out of my control. When I got back, I looked to control what I could." Winston uncrossed his arms and rubbed his hands on his pants. "I started to became obsessed with that moment, my moment, my climax. Seeing how long I could last, how fast I could come. I didn't care if my wife got hers. As a matter of fact it was better if she didn't. It made me feel more in control. Not only was I controlling my happiness but I was controlling hers as well."

Brandon listened not relating. Brandon wasn't in it for control. He knew control was the illusion. Brandon wanted to lose control. It was what he looked for and needed.

"Now Winston," Dr. Baker started. "That's very interesting that you talk about control. Do you feel you truly have control?"

"I have control over the act itself." Winston responded as a matter of factly. "For now, that's the control I need."

"It's a farce," a short heavy blond next to Dr. Baker spoke up. Your idea of control is laughable" Winston shot her a look and raised his eyebrows.

"Well I just know that when I was at my worse," A large groan went through the group. Brandon looked around amused.

"Now everyone please remember we don't want negativity. We will listen to Carissa with open ears." Dr. Ezra tried to bring the group back around.

"Yeah but do we always have to listen to "in my day?" the woman on Brandon's left asked speaking up.

"Well excuse me if I go back to my own experiences. That's how some if us learn."

"Maybe we can focus on control instead. Does anyone have any ideas that could help Winston focus his attention in a more productive manner?"

"I think Carissa is right," Brandon nodded to the woman, eliciting a large smile from her. "Your control is a farce. You may think you are in control but the sex is controlling you."

"Isn't it controlling all of us? Winston asked to Brandon. "Isn't that why we are here?" Everyone feel silent.

Samantha pulled several pins out of her hair releasing it from the twists she typically kept it confined in and ran her fingers through the curls to separate them. She had just finished with her most challenging and youngest patient for the day. He typically drained all her energy, she struggled to relax. She was looking forward to going home and forgetting the week. Tomorrow was appointment free and she had a nice long weekend coming up.

She poured herself a drink and settled back into the cushions. Keeping her eyes trained on the lighted buildings outside. Her thoughts drifted, she had been thinking a lot lately about Ezra even though that ship had sailed years ago.

Although technically no longer dating there were a few times when she could find in her bed, but those were getting fewer and farther apart. It didn't help she hadn't been involved with anyone since she stopped seeing him. She missed the closeness of having someone to talk to, someone to cuddle up next to in bed and she missed the sex. Maybe she missed the sex most and then the others. It was one of the main reasons why it was so beneficial when she stopped treating Brandon.

She should have stopped him the moment he walked into her office. She had taken more than a profession interest in him from the start but attempted to push those thoughts and feelings aside. Something that had been getting difficult to do and then their last appointment, the last indiscretion happened. He had no idea how close she was to turning into a cat in heat, spinning around, sticking her ass high in the air and begging for him to push inside her, not caring she would just be another notch in his bed post.

For a time she was grateful he hadn't returned and she was content with being reminded of him in passing, when something would remind her of him, like a scent or most often the view from her window. Such occasions would bring happy(risky) memories and she would smile as if she was remembered a secret, leaving most people to wonder what would elicit such a mischievous and devious look.

Between the end of the long day and the drink she was getting drowsy. She closed her eyes and assured herself it would be a quick nap. One that would refresh her instead of making her nod off on the train. So we wouldn't fall asleep, something she had done and regretted. Samantha had woken up 4 stops from where she should have gotten off. She had caught cat naps in her office before, Ezra had caught her doing so on more than one occasion. Thinking of Ezra again reminded her his group met tonight and she wondered if Brandon had showed. She tensed her muscles and crossed her legs. She had a brief fight with her subconscious, the thoughts of Ezra caused the increase in blood flow, caused the ache and muscle tension. But her conscious mind was not easily fooled. Brandon's hands were what she wanted pushing the sensitive flesh, parting the folds of skin, she moaned deep in her throat as she tightened the muscles again at the thought.

No, her inner voice screamed, she should start slow. Build up to the climax so to speak. What would Brandon start with? The shoulder rub to a back message? No too cliché, how about running his hands down her legs, up her thigh, to her delicate triangle. No, she yelled at herself again, that's still too fast. Her face, he would start with hands on her face. Stroking it, he smooth's his thumb gently across her lips. Brandon's index finger traces her jaw up under her chin, down her neck. She can smell his cologne, a scent she had actually gone to the Marcy's counter to identify, or at least try, she hadn't had that much luck, it must have been a specialty scent, but she could smell it now. She could feel his warm breath near her ear, tickling it, the rough stubble on his check and chin as his face ran down her neck and nuzzled gently and she could feel his hands cupping her breast as well. His hand was in her shirt but over the smooth satin fabric of her bra, he ran his thumb over her nipple, calling it to attention like an obedient solider, rubbing it harder once it was up making her chew on her lip and suck in her breath sharply. The butterflies in her stomach swirled. She stretched her body and tightened the inner muscles again. She could feel his soft lips on hers and she marveled at how vivid her daydreams were getting when she opened her eyes and saw him.

"My God Brandon," she said jumping quickly up off the couch. "What are you doing? I thought you had group." She tugged at her shirt pulling it up, crossing the open fabric across her breasts. She noted Brandon's shirt was open and untucked. He belt was unbuckled the top button was undone and a considerable bulge tented the fabric below and ran snake like down his thigh. Her eyes didn't want to seem to leave it and she could feel a part of her wanting to kneel in front of him take him in her mouth and see exactly how well he fit inside her, to see if she could easily fight him or not.

"Come back," he bid, tapping the vacant spot next to him. He had no smile on his face, just a desperate look of longing. She shook her head, walked over to her desk and sat down hard in the chair. "I had group, we are done for the day. I want to see you, I need to see you." He patted the sofa again, "Come on, sit back down."

She didn't want to look at him, she clutched the shirt tighter and shook her head again. Brandon stood up and started to walk to her.

"Please don't Brandon. It might be better if you just left."

He stopped and looked hurt at her words. She could see his chest rise and fall as he attempted to catch his breath. His eyes looked at her pleading for just a moment. He struggled to find words but couldn't. He stood up straighter, tucked his shirt, a gesture she had seen him do before and today found erotic enough that she had to look away.

He turned and started to walk towards the door.

"Brandon," she called, stopping him in his tracks again. "I'm curious, why, why did you do that? What made you feel the need to do that?" She sounded out of breath.

He didn't turn around, "You were calling my name." He said to her over his shoulder and left.

That didn't seem right? Was she truly calling his name? Her muscles gave an involuntary squeeze again. She took her hand up under her skirt and moved her panties out of the way. She was soaking wet. She closed her eyes and she pushed her fingers inside. She knew she shouldn't but the urge to finish was too strong. Brandon left an unendurable ache. She slouched down in the chair to allow her legs to spread open wider. Samantha pushed her fingers in as far as she could and thrust her hips against her hand.

She would have only been slightly surprised to know Brandon barely made it into a stall in the bathroom, locked the door behind himself, unzipped his pants and pulled himself out into the cool air. He wrapped his hand around his shaft at the same time Samantha was thrusting against her own fingers. The anticipation had him on the verge already a few moments was all it took to finish. He thought of the feel of her skin on his, the smooth suppleness of it, she thought of his cologne, which she could still smell. It was on her shirt like a stain. She sniffed at it as her fingers worked. They closed their eyes and thought about each other as they climaxed together but apart.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey thanks for reading, sorry the last chapter was so horribly edited, if I read my stuff too often I start to hate it so it only went through one or two revisions. Hope you enjoy the new chapter.**

**Chapter VII **

What would he say to her? She _had_ moaned his name. He was sure he heard it but her reaction made him question his judgment. Brandon knew when he was wanted. Her body called out to him. Did he need her so badly he was reading want from her when there was none? No he hadn't imagined the longer than necessary look she had given him, she had given _it_ when she stood away. She wanted him almost as much as he wanted her. After the bathroom visit he had contemplated finding someone anyone who could fill the painful ache he had, now but as she walked through the lobby he knew there was no reason to have a substitute when he could have the real thing. He also recognized the look on her face. He had seen it in the mirror often enough. The look of want and need to whet the appetite that was unquenchable.

He followed her to her train. It was easy enough to keep out of sight. She walked slowly ignoring the fast paced progress of everyone else. She garnered more than a dozen looks from passersby. Brandon figured they were concerned stares, she did look half-drunk/half stoned. But she also received lingering meandering looks from men and a surprising number of women who recognized the scent of sex still clinging to her skin. Brandon wondered, briefly if she had used the same methods he had employed to scratch the itch. If she had, he knew from experience the itch went deeper and was sometimes insatiable.

Brandon tried to keep out of sight although he was sure she spotted him more than once but couldn't have been sure, Samantha stared out of unseeing eyes, but for the fact that she always made the same trek every day Brandon didn't think she would have made it home in her current condition.

He followed her out of the subway, a short walk and Samantha stopped in front if what Brandon assumed was her apartment building. He didn't feel following her into the building was a good idea, so he walked passed, went one block up and over and found himself in a small alley with a good line of site to her building. He saw the lights on in several windows on all three floors. He waited to see if he could figure which one was hers. Would she give him some sort of sign, he should have followed directly into the building. Now he couldn't think of a way to make it into her building let alone her apartment. Faking a break down may suffice, to get her on the phone and eventually into her house. It would have been plausible but he didn't think that excuse would get him past the lobby door, not if she truly was as disgusted as she had appeared. He stood in the shadows running through less and less credible excuses, he almost missed the form standing in front of the window. When he did look he knew he wasn't going to need an excuse. She stood in front of the window the overhead light illuminating the apartment behind her. She had taken off her suit and stood naked in full view of anyone who cared to be looking, it just happened to be him. He also couldn't be 100% sure but he thought she was looking directly at where he stood.

He left his post and walked across the street. The elevator took him to the third floor he calculated for a moment before he decided which door was hers. None of them were open and he waited for Samantha to open her apartment to him but nothing happened. He took a chance and went to the door he felt most likely was hers, convinced the door would be locked he hesitated only a moment before trying the knob. The hinges creaked announcing his arrival. He scanned her apartment. It was a huge loft space, kitchen/dining room/living room all sharing a common area. There was a floating wall that separated the bedroom from the rest of the apartment. He expected to find her in the large room waiting by the windows for him. That would be fitting, they would share the view of the city as they shared each other, but she wasn't waiting by the windows, or in the room at all, which meant she was waiting for him in the bedroom, the thought made his stomach cramp in a familiar way.

The lights in the apartment had been turned out and lights from the city lighted the space but dimly. Convinced his shoes would make too much noise in the hardwood floor he slipped off the shoes and left them just inside the door. Brandon waited a few moments as his eyes became adjusted to the dimness. He inhaled deeply smelling the apartment scent which was unmistakenly her. He walked around looking over the items she had filling the shelves and tables. He assumed each item had some meaning and wanted to know more about her wanted to know more about what her life was. After he walked around the three rooms he looked over to the wall and saw the door slightly ajar. He stepped to it again expecting to find her, he did, but was slightly disappointed, but only slightly. She lay on her bed asleep wrapped in a thin silk kimono robe. He stood watching her for a moment. Despite the heat of the apartment goose bumps broke out on his skin, he pulled at his crotch adjusting himself through his slacks. Why did she call him up, just to watch her sleep? He was about to turn and leave when the figure on the bed cooed softly and turned ever so slightly. Her hand ended high on her thigh and pulled back the robe showing Brandon the reason he was there.

He stood still for a moment contemplating his new role. Is this how he wanted her? Is this how she wanted him? He walked over to the bed, leaned over and untied the strap of the robe carefully. He stopped, waited for her to move again waited for her to stop him. When she didn't move he parted the sides of the robe with his fingers. The backs of his hands rubbed carefully across her skin. He must be careful, to little pressure would tickle and she would 'wake up' to must pressure and she could 'wake' as well. He climbed on the bed and lay down next to her and watched her 'sleep'. Brandon's hand went out and moved the hair from her forehead. Most of her curly mane was haloed around her head, he move the pieces that lay across her forehead obstructing her view if she had cared to look.

His fingers snaked around her face learning it. He touched her eye lids, nose, checks, and chin then settled on her mouth. He traced the outline of her mouth touching the fullness of her lips. His fingers moved down her neck to her breast pinching her nipples awake. He could feel her tighten as he nipped at them, which made him smile. He pinched them again harder this time making her grunt and flinch. Brandon leaned down and kissed them in apology. His hand traveled further down her body, over the concave of her stomach, pausing only seconds before running his fingers into the hair between her legs. She flinched ever so slightly but relaxed as he traced the outline. He pushed himself up and spread her legs, running his hands up and down her thighs. He stood for a moment looking at her, drinking her in. He knew what he would do next. He slowly undressed letting his clothes fall to the floor.

He lay back down propping his head up in his hand and the other he placed between her legs and played her with his fingers. First he pressed around the outside with his index and pinky, next he pushed in between the soft flesh with his middle and index. He felt her reaction almost immediately. She tried to suppress the arch her back wanted to make, her muscles barely flexed, just ever so slightly, but he could feel the moist wetness on his fingers, feel the heat come off her body. He pushed his fingers deep inside her and smiled wider at the soft, warm, almost hot moisture she produced. He took his fingers back, carefully placed his index on her lips and painted them with her dew, he licked his fingers then kissed her lips licking and sucking at them, taking back what he had just given her.

He spread her legs wider and continued his exploration of her. He pushed his fingers deep inside her, while his tongue and teeth continued playing with her breasts and nipples. He experimented with two fingers, three, and four to gage her reaction. He would stop and only press around the most sensitive areas, not directly on it, in a horrible tease. But the problem with teasing, is it cut both ways. Brandon could see Samantha's body aching for him to be inside her. He needed to be inside of her just as much. He pushed up again, settling himself between her legs. He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her towards him. He leaned forward placed his hands on either side of her head, careful not to touch or pull her hair, then leaned his own hips to meet hers. Needing no guidance to find her, just knowing where she opened, he pushed first the tip, nudging just the head in, forcing himself to wait before moving forward and slowly parting her with the rest of him, easing gently, deliberately until he was buried completely inside her. He could feel her push her hips up to meet him.

He pulled back just as slowly as he had entered her. It was a struggle to clear his mind and to keep the gradual easy pace he had developed and fought against the craving to rush. He wanted to last as long as he could, reveling in the warmth she provided. His body screamed at him to hurry, demanded of him to go faster and finish now. He wrestled against the instinct, resisted need. Each time he pushed inside of her he bore down with his hips, grinding into her. He could feel her warmth envelop him commanding him to work to her advantage, but he refused. If she wanted him in this way she would have to wait for him. He would have her how he wanted. She started to moan and sigh deep in her throat. He knew she was close but still he went slowly. He could feel her wetness pour over him and feel the spasms as her muscles flinched and flexed against him. He squeezed his eyes shut and stopped with his shaft buried deep inside her as her body burst in orgasm. He counted backwards and tried desperately not to think how exquisite the sensation felt. He couldn't remember the last time he stopped and enjoyed his partner's orgasm. He was getting high on the feeling. He pushed his thoughts to something else, trying to prolong his own climax. He tried to put his mind on something, anything else but it all came back to her underneath him. Samantha's twitching slowly subsided and she sunk back into the matress. With her muscles relaxed he could move more easily inside her. He started to thrust inside her again. This time he moved just a little faster, grinded harder inside her wide spread legs. He could feel the buildup of his own orgasm only marginally mystified that she was matching it with her own dance again. He tried to muffle his own grunts that had started to mix with his and was only slightly successful. The knuckles in his toes cracked, the muscles in his arms cramped as his fingers knotted and twisted in the sheets. The pump was on and didn't seem to want to turn off. He could think of nothing he would rather do, no place he would rather be then inside her, with her and this moment.

His muscles slacked and he fell down on the bed next to her struggling to catch his breath. Not remembering the last time he truly enjoyed the act, the feel of his partner underneath him. The excitement of what lead to the climax feeling better than the end result. He lay his head on her shoulder needing her to nestle against him as well, but she continued to 'sleep'. He wanted to feel her comfort, wanted to confirm she enjoyed him just as much as he enjoyed her. Brandon ran his hands over her forever tan skin, slipping through the soft sheen of sweat on her body. She turned away from him and he had to be content with her body spooned next to his.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello my cheeky darlings, I wanted to let you know I'm a little nervous about my descriptions think I'm a bit redundant you'll have to let me know. Also it's important that you remember I'm bad at character descriptions, usually rely on you to fill in the missing pieces but you should know that Dr. Ezra looks like Scott Bakula. I'll tell you why later.**

**Chapter VIII**

Tuesday and group again. Brandon was becoming use to the different attitudes and nuances of the group. Winston with his allusions of control, Carissa and her need that every story come back to her, there didn't seem to be anything that anyone had ever done or every will do that she hadn't done first. There was Kathy, a very attractive red-head who seemed hell bend on sleeping through all the boroughs of New York, repelled by her behavior but barely doing anything to stop it. There was also Brody, a young Hispanic kid that for some reason reminded Brandon of Samantha. He had discovered sex at a young age sleeping with his mother's friends, finding comfort in the older women until his discovered his secret. And then Gad, who more often than not, would spend most of his time at the group silent and brooding. Every now and again Dr. Ezra would get him involved in the group, insisting he "share", but he had done no real sharing, making it a real mystery as to why he felt he needed group. Their numbers never seemed to exceed more than 6, Winston, Carissa, Kathy and Brody being the major consistent ones.

Brandon was drawn here out of habit more than any real sense that it was helping. Dr. Ezra didn't seem to like him all that much. Brandon wasn't entirely sure why and it wasn't always there but it would come out every now and again. Brandon thought briefly of leaving the group, he didn't need it anyway, it wasn't necessary he had something already. At least he thought he had something, his evenings with Samantha seemed to contain his need. He hadn't simply shut off, he still appreciated a good form, had wants. But the urges weren't as strong, weren't palpable as they had been. Although if he thought too long on it he couldn't actually put together what he and Samantha actually were doing.

"Brandon?" he looked towards the sound of his name.

"I'm sorry?" He asked, smiling trying to put normalcy into his face.

"Well Brandon," Dr. Ezra started. "You seem a little distracted today, got something on your mind?"

"No, no sorry." Brandon crossed then recrossed his legs and shook his head.

"You look like a man who's not all here today." Carissa said, her concern about someone other than herself was surprising but one could almost guarantee she would bring it back around to Carissa.

"Yes, no" Brandon looked at his hands. "No" he said shaking his head in a finality the he hoped would focus the attention on someone else. He looked down uncomfortable with the eyes on him. What would he even tell them? What exactly would he say? How do you explain the relationship he had with Samantha. He would see her during the day, they had lunch on a few occasions, spent time together like any normal couple, any normal couple who only had sex when one of them were asleep. They hadn't spent the night together, one would slip away before the other awoke, some odd silent agreement that they shared. But sex when she was asleep gone by morning was the routine, although that's not entirely true either, they had switched roles.

She had come home to find him asleep in her bed. He had been slightly worried she wouldn't agree to the change in roles. That she was content to have him make love to her. That she would continue to allow him to fuck her. When she had walked into her bedroom to find him asleep, he was sure she would turn around leave the apartment and not return, abandoning her apartment, her property, abandoning him.

He strained and heard her walk over to the bed and he could feel her watching him, he struggled not to move, keeping perfectly still. It was almost like knowing a secret you wanted to tell, needed to tell but knew you couldn't. She walked away from the bed, her foot falls going toward what he had hoped was the bathroom and not the door of her bedroom. A panic stuck in his throat threating to strangle him, he relaxed slightly when he heard muffled movement then heard as she padded back on soft feet and climbed onto the bed. Samantha moved his hand from where it was on his chest to between her legs. She guided his hand on her thigh slid it higher and pushed his fingers up and inside. He didn't think there was a time when he touched her and he wasn't met with her warmth. As she encouraged his hand to play he understood what she wanted him to feel and couldn't suppress the smile that spread across his face. She was clean shaven. Not that she had been unruly in the first place, but he knew this new look was done for him. He felt slightly foolish at his earlier panic attack. He almost regretted his decision to "sleep" this time. He wanted his mouth on her, wanted his tongue to explore her smooth surface, to find out how differently her clean bare skin felt and tasted. But he resolved himself with the knowledge that next time would be his turn and she would regret giving him something new to play with.

She used his hand to masturbate with. The familiar moan and sighs she had meant different things and he could tell she was coming by the choked guttural sounds she made. She squealed holding fast and a little too tightly to his hand, bucking against it then collapsed to the bed. Her orgasm left her weak and a few moments slipped by before she was able to catch her breath and move again.

When she did, she unbuttoned his shirt and played with his chest, running her hands over body, feeling his warm skin. It was a struggle to keep still as she caressed his skin. He was surprised how difficult it was to lay quiet and not reciprocate the soft touches. She used her hands, mouth and almost every part of her the explore him. He both hated and savored the switch in roles, he knew she liked her breasts fondled, her nipples pinched and squeezed, but today was his turn to give in. He relaxed back and allowed her to do what she wanted this time. Now she had to test what brought him pleasure.

They had been going on like this for several weeks, but this was the first time she touched him, the first time she worked at giving them the release they both desired. She had already come but he knew from experience she was far from finished. He could feel her struggle with his pants, typically the most he had to remove was her panties and more often than not he wouldn't bother to remove the string ones that she sometimes wore, choosing instead to rip them aside as he had his way with her. Sam's solution was to not bother trying to remove them. She instead opened his zipper reached in and after a little rough handling, a sensation he found both painful and pleasurable, brought his hard member out into the cool air. She performed the service, placing her lips, teeth, and tongue on him. This was her first taste of him. Licking and running her tongue down and up his long shaft, pushing her tongue into the opening. Gripping and squeezing him tightly. She then swallowed him whole. Brandon opened his eyes risking a look down at her. Her hair obscured her act. He fought the urge to move it out of the way, to watch as she concentrated on his pleasure. He gave into the feeling, closed his eyes and relaxed into the soft sensation of her tongue traveling over his shaft. He felt the pressure as his cock met the back of her throat, then the release as she swallowed it down. She brought him to just this side before she broke away from him.

He waited longing for the sensation to return. Not being in control or even participating out right in how he was satisfied was almost too painful to bear. He wanted to push her head back down force her to finish what she started. Instead she rubbed her hands over his chest again. Dragging her nails over his pecs, then down the sides, testing, teasing, trying to gage what would get the biggest reaction from him. The smile this time was easier to fight, she wouldn't find what she was looking for, although he again melted into the skin on skin contact. She picked up his hand and placed it on her breast. Guiding his fingers to her nipples and squeezing. She leaned into him kissing his lips and face, pressing onto him. She touched him again with her face, arms, breast and body. She stayed next to him looking at him running her fingers through his hair, he thought for one dizzying moment that she was done with the charade wanted him to 'wake up' when she sat up suddenly, took his cock in her mouth again, cementing his hard on. She straddled him facing away from him and guided him inside her. She leaned back grabbed his hands and put them in either side of her hips. Brandon opened his eyes taking in the image of her hair cascading down her back, the swell of her ass, the feel of her warm insides always wet always ready to take him. She arched his back and moved her hips from side to side as he sank deep inside her.

They were still learning a lot about each other in the weeks since they started doing whatever you wanted to call what it was they were doing together, but he knew from experience, her favorite feeling was when he was inside of her, not moving just filling every inch of her. She would give little subtle cues and now as she sat on top of him not moving, squeezing, he could feel her inner muscles tighten and relax against him. He relished in her pleasure. She moaned and started to bounce on top of him. She would bring him just short of the edge then stop, prolonging the ecstasy. She held his hands fast on her hips then bringing his hands up to her breast making them squeeze hard. She leaned forward putting his hard member at an unusual angle, exposing the round pucker of the one hole he hadn't been inside of yet. A hard grunt escaped his lips. She pushed up and leaned back against him. She took his hand again and rubbed it against her sensitive flesh. He could feel her coming again. She shot up as her inner muscles bore down, threatening to push him out of her. She didn't bother to stifle the screams as she rode him hard, gasping and grunting as her body convulsed on top of him. He felt the wetness rain down soaking him increasing the wet spot they inevitably created.

She continued to bounce building him up again, this time not stopping knowing he was only seconds away. Brandon squeezed her hips and thrust up to her, bringing her off the bed slightly and making her lose her balance slightly. He held his breath as his body went stiff, muscles tightening, heightening his orgasm. He face twisted in ecstasy. She leaned back collapsed on top of him, taking his hands one more time putting one over her breast, the other on his second favorite body part soon becoming the first with its new shorn appearance. Together they brought her to what he knew was her third orgasm of the night. He also knew that it was not necessarily where she would end. Samantha is insatiable. It was one of the things he was starting to love about her.

Brandon looked around at the group, silent eyes looked back at him. Apparently he didn't need to think of what to say he's already said it.

"That's sick," Kathy said sucking her teeth in disgust. Brandon's eyes swept the room, wondering if everyone felt the same.

Dr. Ezra who usually refused to allow other members to judge, stayed silent.

"I think it's hot," Carissa smiled. "What a better uncomplicated relationship."

"Brandon," Dr. Ezra starts. "When?" he paused, "I'm assuming this isn't the only interaction you have, just showing up at her house and..." Ezra looked around the room unsure how to go from here.

"No, we've," Brandon looks around suddenly embarrassed by the scrutiny, "We've been out together, we-. I don't know exactly."

"I don't suggest you do it any longer Brandon. I don't think it's beneficial for either of you to be in a relationship where there isn't open communication." Dr. Ezra hit his stride and felt a little more comfortable in his talking points. "I don't understand but do you feel this is the best relationship for you?"

Brandon remained silent. Stopping had never crossed his mind and he didn't want to think about stopping, he didn't have a problem continuing, if she only wanted to see him in this situation it was almost perfect.

"I think," Ezra explained, "I would suggest you talk to her, speak with her, agree what you are both doing and confirm this is what both of you need. I'm sure you'll find out it's not.

"How did you meet her? How do you get in her house? She can't leave the door open for you all the time?" Winston was truly intrigued, this spoke to his control.

Brandon looked at Kathy and watched as she worked through the scenarios in her head.

"I don't," Brandon said distractedly. "I mean, she doesn't leave it open. There's a key."

"Bit risky in this day and age."

"She leaves it under her neighbors mat."

There was a large clatter as the clip board Ezra typically held in his hands fell to the floor. Gad bent over and put it back in the doctor's hands. Ezra stared hard at Brandon before Brandon looked uncomfortably away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello, I'm having problems with my computers disk drive so it needs to go back to fixin' I didn't want to leave you wanting so I quickly typed up the next 2 chapters in our saga. I do apologize if they are badly edited, I'll fix it when I get my computer back, if I get my computer back. Wish me luck on that one.  
**

**Chapter IX**

"Brandon, can I speak with you for a moment," Dr. Ezra interrupted Brandon and Gad, although interrupting wasn't really exactly what he had done. Brandon had approached Gad standing next to the coffee maker, Brandon wanted to talk to him, get his story, but Dr. Ezra interjected before he was able to.

"Sure Dr. Ezra." Brandon nodded to Gad who walked silently away. Brandon was beginning to think he would never find out Gad's story.

"Brandon, please take a seat." They walked back to the hard plastic chairs and sat down.

"Dr. Ezra I know what you are going to say." Ezra put up his hand attempt to silence Brandon.

"Why don't we let me say my peace before interrupting?" Brandon silently nodded and instead tried to remember any conversation he had had with Samantha about Ezra. There was something she had said or more how she said it that lead Brandon to believe they had once been involved which may have been more jealousy on his part than actual knowledge but it was still there. The more time Brandon spent with Ezra in group he couldn't imagine what if anything she had seen in him.

"Brandon" he started, "I'm not going to pretend I understand what you're doing. I'm not condoning or condemning your actions, I just wonder if they are the smart ones." He titled his head so his view of Brandon was slightly skewed. "Are you comfortable with these, arraignments?"

Brandon made no reply, Ezra tried a different approach, "I worry you are trading one bad vice for another. I recognized the need for a sexual release, the need for an emotional release. The primal need is one of the most basics, I don't want to see you changing one depravity for another," Ezra cleared his throat, "Sorry that was a strong word. It's like a heroin addict switching to crack if you see my meaning. "

Brandon didn't find this analogy any more appropriate than the other.

"I mean you can see the reaction of the group. Do you think maybe this is something you forced on your friend?" Brandon jumped as if he were punched. He stood up and walked away from the doctor.

"Why do you think that?"

"I don't think that Brandon," Ezra said shaking his head, "But have you spoken with her, disgust, discussed this?"

"We, no, we, there's never a time." Brandon collapsed on a chair.

"I'm concerned," Ezra said pointing his hands at his chest, "that this behavior shows a level of depravity that I haven't seen in someone that does not have other deep seeded problems, someone that is not seeking a form of treatment more intense than group therapy."

Brandon stared wide eyed at the doctor. Was he seriously suggesting that he was crazy? That he deserved to be locked up like his sister currently was? You could call it "resting" all you wanted to but Brandon understood where she was and why she stayed. His sister was a lunatic and now he was being called sociopathic.

"Thank you Dr. Baker. I appreciate the time you took with me today." Brandon said standing up and walking to the door.

"Brandon I really believe we should continue to discuss this maybe perhaps in a more private setting."

"I'll consider it, thank you." Brandon hurriedly left the room.

Ezra sat back in the chair and pushed his finger down over his lips in an attempt to control the smile that was ruling his mouth. Ezra recognized the power of a few well-placed words. He recognized the fragility of an already damaged psyche. He also recognized the things that were his, and he be damned if he would allow Sam to slip out of his hands to a sick fuck like Brandon.

Brandon stood in the rapidly cooling fall air. He needed to see Samantha, need to be reassured that what they were doing was something that they both wanted, that it wasn't something he had forced on her or she had forced on him. This was the way they wanted the relationship to be. There was a knock on the door in his head that he refused to answer the knock of the questions that would come up but he would ignore. If this is what they both wanted, why doesn't he go home with her? Why not make love in a way where they both discover and explorer each other? Why don't they wake up together? He bit on a choked sob realizing they hadn't actually shared a kiss. He had placed kisses on her and she on him but not a shared one. His mouth, lips and tongue had been on places she couldn't reach on herself. But a reciprocal kiss was the one thing that eluded them.

He found himself at her building after a journey he barely remembered. He went swiftly through the lobby ignoring everyone and pushing an elderly couple out of the way to get to the elevator. Once inside he leaned back against the back and closed his eyes as the elevator doors closed. He had mistakenly opened his mouth, spilling out what he and Samantha did was the worst mistake but he knew she would make it right. Whatever it was they were doing was fine, wasn't sick, disgusting, or perverted at all. It may not be normal but it was what they shared and it was what they both wanted, right?

The elevator doors opened and a tall blond he had seen before stepped on. All thought left his mind. He no longer cared about seeing Samantha to justify their actions, he no longer craved the absolution he had come to find. His mind was no longer interested in filling any need except one, the one that could be satisfied by the woman standing in front of him now. She smiled and pushed a lock of hair back over her ear and cast her eyes down. The raw emotion shown plainly on his face, scaring and exciting her all at once, the door made an audible clunk that increased her fear. A voice in her head told her to run but she ignored it. With one large stride Brandon was standing over her, she shrunk back against the wall allowing him tower over her. She looked up to him with large brown eyes willing him to do what he wanted. It crossed his mind to take her in the elevator but he was still thinking somewhat rationally and the idea quickly left his mind, he looked to her for guidance. Looking first at her then over to the key pad, he didn't think she understood initially, then the gears shifted into place and she reached over and pressed the 10 button, a few floors underneath Sam's offices.

The thought of her put a shiver thru him which the blond attempted to console by pushing her arm around his side and sliding up his back. Surprisingly the elevator went straight to the 10 floor, no stops on any floor allowing him to stay over her pressing into her so she could feel him.

When the elevator doors opened she looked left and right took his hand and quickly lead him to a unmarked door a few steps down from where they exited the elevator. She pulled him in and locked the door.

"I've never done anything like this before," she said.

"Don't talk," he said, leaned in and kissed her hard. She sucked in her breath and gave into him. She pulled at his shirt then fought with the buttons. He stopped her, pushing her hands roughly away. He wasn't going to be here long enough to need to remove his shirt. He pulled up her skirt and tugged roughly at her underwear scratching them down her legs.

"Ow, ooh" she whined.

He grabbed her neck, pulled her too him so he was breathing in his face. "You're my little puppet, so you'll do what I say, right?" She nodded scared but more than a little delighted with thought of being dominated. He pushed her down to her knees in front of him. She was tentative and unsure, unsnapping his pants, pulling the zipper down deliberately. Moving with a slowness he had no desire for today.

"Take it, take it!" His member while not imposing by any account, proved a challenge for the woman. He held on to either side of her head and thrust against her forcing himself into her. A few quick thrusts before he could hear and feel her gag against him. He stopped and pulled away from her.

"No it's OK," she said moving towards him again, grabbing for him. He pulled her up instead spun her around and bent her over the table. He moved fast positioning himself behind her and guided himself into the forbidden space, then jabbed his hips into her. She cried out, arched her back and allowed his intrusion. She reached her hand back and assisted in her own pleasure. He reached his own hand out grabbed her breast, pulling almost ripping it. She called him lover and whined as she came. Brandon didn't finish so soon and he continued to pound into her. Taking his time and ignoring her yelps of discomfort. Enjoying a little too much the knowledge she was in pain, but taking it for him.

His body stiffened as the familiar spasms sent him jerking, his grip around her hips increased, pressing like a vice grip with would develop into bruises she would be asked about later. He stepped away from her slumping against a wall. She turned around knelt before him and took his shaft into her mouth tasting him.

This is what it should be shouldn't it? Reactions when your love making, movement, noises, terms of endearment spoken as the lovers joined into the mutual act. Now that he had had a taste of it, he craved more, needed more and he resolved himself with the thought that he would not get it from Samantha.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter X**

It had been 3 weeks since she had seen Brandon. 26 days, 13 hours and 37 minutes, but she wasn't counting. Samantha sat alone in the restaurant having dinner. She had tried to keep herself occupied, almost becoming the most annoying best friend ever to friend Marta, calling with tickets to shows and movies, invitations to dinner or lunches, or just drinks. She recognized the exasperation she heard in her friend's voice so tonight she was going it alone to see if that helped plug the void Brandon had left when he stopped visiting her. Gone were the nights when she would be bursting with him. He had even stopped coming to her office, the small mini dates they had enjoyed before filling the nights with ecstasy she found she missed almost as much as his mouth on her lips, her breasts, stomach and a little further south. Thinking of him while trying to satisfy her carnal needs didn't work either. She had called him but couldn't find it in herself to leave a message. She couldn't think of anything to say. "Hey what's wrong you haven't come over and sucked my pussy while I slept in a while, just checking making sure you're OK" didn't seem appropriate. So she waited, waited to see if he would come around again, if she would see him on the street or in a shop, if he would show at her office.

Everything helped remind Samantha of him. She had also met his sister. She had happened to be in the hospital where Sissy was resting, pure coincidence of course but a nice happenstance just the same. Samantha was happy she had met with Sissy and felt the meeting was a productive one, although after she left she worried what Brandon would make of it if he ever found out.

He was on her mind when she looked up and spotted a table with 3 men. Two had their backs to her, the one that didn't she thought he was looking at her. Good looking, pale skin, dark hair, her "type" when she was back in school. She would find him looking at her out of the corner of his eye, or peeking over his companions shoulder. He was handsome enough and Sam had discovered something about herself since she had started the secret relationship she had had with Brandon, he had awoken a desire in her, an insatiable need, an unnerving ache that she couldn't shake, didn't want to shake. Right at this moment she couldn't remove the thought that if Brandon no longer wanted to quench her thirst, she was very positive the gentleman across the restaurant would do it for her.

She looked again, this time he was staring straight at her. No more shy glances or half peeks. The shirt she was wearing already had generated attention from the host to the busboy who had insisted on filling her glass even when she only had taken a sip from it. She wasn't sure if her mystery man from across the room could see the swell of her breast from his distance but she was sure he wondered what could be seen, which Sam knew from experience, imagination could sometimes be much stronger than the real thing.

Samantha had never been ignorant to her looks. She was aware she was pretty and didn't think herself vain because of it. She was also aware that there were prettier women than her. Her friend Marta was one, she had classic Latin looks, and Samantha's feelings had bordered on jealously when they first met. But she was able to come to terms with it and had learned to tone down her cocky conceited attitude. Tonight she threw it all away and brought out all the tricks she had for getting attention. She kept her hands out of her hair. Usually a sure fire method to get someone to look at you but too many people had become wise to that trick, plus it could cause a little too much attention and from the wrong sort of person. She instead she tried to keep the attention on her mouth, small movements with her tongue wetting them and then biting hesitantly down. Not too often least he think she was some type of crazy person. She then folded her hands under her chin leaving her pinky out and bit on the nail.

When the waiter brought her dessert she managed to drop her finger in the whipped cream. She had no intention of ever eating the rich decadent desert but she knew how to use it to garner attention. She slowly licked her finger clean of the emulsion then equally slowly licking her lips. She took her time leaving the finger in her mouth almost forgetting it was there. She then took a few bites, taking time to savor each one, trying to hit somewhere near seductive without looking like she needed special assistance in feeding herself. When she hazarded a look at his table it was empty. Apparently she wasn't as good as she thought she was at getting wanted, needed attention. Maybe it was a bit too much?

She settled her bill and walked out of the restaurant feeling slightly rejected. Ezra flashed briefly into her mind. If Tracy wasn't home she could almost be sure he would have her. He had called her often enough recently and she had rebuffed him still holding out that Brandon would be with her. But tonight she was feeling just lonely and desperate enough that Ezra would do even if his mouth managed to screw it up. She dug in her pocket to find her phone and raised her arm at a passing taxi.

"Can I give you a ride?" a voice asked from behind her. She turned and her mystery man from the restaurant was standing there.

"My mother has warned me from accepting rides from strange men." She retorted.

"I'm more odd than strange." He countered

"Well then I guess that makes it alright." He hailed a cab.

"I'm just up at the Conrad," he explained.

"Then your much closer, your place it is." She smiled at him. They stepped into the cab. She couldn't help but evaluate him, it was becoming her nature. He would also be compared to Brandon and that was inevitable as well. He gave the instructions to the cabbie settled back in the seat next to her and took her hand.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Samantha," She had settled on telling him the truth for tonight, it would help get out of him what he wanted her to be. What she was going to be to him tonight a slave, a slut? She didn't think he leaned that way, not the way he was caressing her hand, however you could never tell, she knew plenty of people who started out quiet and reserved, soft and loving and quickly turned into her worst nightmare.

"Brian," so close to Brandon she thought. She felt sorry for him that he would be judged against an unknown suitor. Someone he had no chance of matching. He put his hand on her knee and caressed her skin. He smiled at the softness of it, feeling its smoothness and delighting in the pleasure it gave him. He leaned in and kissed her, sucking her lips into his. Samantha smiled, she was very close to believing that although not matching in the pleasure she had derived from her times with Brandon this would almost be just as gratifying.

They made it to his hotel quicker than she expected. He kissed her in the elevator on the way up, she could taste the garlic on his breath from whatever meal he had had that night. She couldn't shake the anticipation of having him. Different pictures flicked through her mind all of which she tried to ignore but wasn't met with much luck. Building up to a great night would almost inevitably be a letdown. But she found with each passing moment she wanted him more and more, not believing she would be able to wait until they were alone.

When they arrived at his room it was almost what she expected, a typical hotel room with a small area for seating separated from the sleeping area by a sliding door. He offered her a seat and then excused himself slid back the door then coming back into the room.

"Did you want something to drink?" He smiled and raised his eyebrows a few times to show he was being funny, "I'll spring for the mini bar."

"Ooohhh," she purred in an equally funny tone, "Big spender." She shook her head, "No thank you. A drink of water is fine." The hotel had its own labeled bottled water. He cracked the top and walked it over to where she sat.

"I think there's ice?" he offered.

"I'm fine right now." He nodded excused himself again and stepped through the sliding door.

She slipped off her shoes and stretched in an attempt to relax the tension she was holding. A small shadow of doubt crawled into her mind suddenly she was concerned if the anticipation of this encounter was leading her to a major disappointment. She listened and could hear as he relived himself, flushed and ran water in the sink. Helpful, that he actually washed his hands. She stood up walked through the door he had gone through passed the bathroom then into the area of the room that had the bed. A single bed that had already been turned down for the evening. There were two mints on the pillow, which made her think of Brandon and his first day in her office. She counted, trying to total up the amount of time she had actually known Brandon, and then she tried to calculate how long it was going to take before she was over him.

"There you are," Brian stepped up behind her, startling her a little. "Sorry." He said apologizing.

"No apologies necessary. My mind was wandering a little." She turned to him, he had taken off his suit jacket, and unbutton the top buttons of his shirt down to his mid chest. He had dark chest hair reached almost to his collar bone was think and the color matched the jet black almost blue hair on his head.

"I don't quite have the brilliant water view I was hoping for but if you squint you can see some of it over there," he leaned into and over her pointing between the buildings. His face was now close to hers and she could now smell the mint mouthwash he must have used while in the bathroom and felt her stomach flutter slightly. She couldn't help feel slightly flattered that he did that for her, showing this encounter meant a little more to him than just a quickie. He may not be the long term to solution to her Brandon problem, but he will be the short term solution right now.

She cupped her hand on the side of his face and pulled his lips to hers. She kissed him eagerly, combing her fingers into his hair. He had a difficult time holding the kiss with the smile plastered on his face. He broke the kiss and worked on the buttons on her shirt, once they were undone he spread the shirt wide open. He ran his fingers down over her breast to her stomach stopping with his hands on either side of her waist and pulled her close. His fingers found the zipper on her skirt and pulled it down. He slid the fabric down over her hips, running his hand over the satin fabric of her underwear and squeezed her rump. They both pulled, pushed and shrugged her out of her underwear. She slipped out of her shirt then turned around leaning her ass back into him. She could feel him fumble behind her then felt what she knew was his stiff rod run down between her cheeks toy with the first hole it met then move to the path of least resistance and slide into her. She reached out her hand and banged it against the window. She braced herself as he thrust against her, struggling to find purchase against the slippery glass. He moved with her for a few moments slowed then stopped altogether.

"Oh my God," he breathed. "You feel too good, this feels too good. I can't, I'm sorry," He pulled back from her and sat down hard on the bed. She turned toward him and removed her bra. She then leaned down and helped him off with his shirt.

"Samantha," he breathed looking up to her, drinking in her skin. She bent down and silenced his lips. She then pulled him up tugged at his belt then let him work on removing it, as he did she pulled back the sheets on the bed and lay down. He quickly pulled off his pants and underwear and climbed into the bed with her. He spread her legs and found it just as exciting as Brandon had. He licked and sucked at her skin following her thrusting hips with his mouth, while he pushed his fingers into her, stabbing them quickly into the yielding flesh. Her hand raked into his hair again grabbing and jerking him to her as she came hard, biting back the shrieks that wanted to escape her throat.

He stayed locked between her legs, although he didn't have much of a choice, she still held steadfast to his hair. Samantha only reluctantly loosened her grip as her body calmed from her orgasm. When he could finally move again he looked up to her and smiled, she returned it in kind. He adjusted himself over her, kissing her again, pushing his tongue inside her mouth just as eagerly as he push inside her gentle flesh. She could taste herself on his lips and hungrily licked and sucked at him. As they greedily kissed his hips jolted up and down finding her soft flesh again and sliding in. She could tell he was struggling to go slow, to last as long as he possibly could but he gave into his ecstasy. Brian called out as he drove faster and faster with his hips.

He dropped on top of her exhausted. He whispered into her ear and stroked her hair. As soft, as nice, as blissful as it was as she lay there feeling him drift her thoughts moved almost immediately to Brandon. What was he doing right now?


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry for the delay you guys. Just wanted to maybe give you a little background on Brandon and Samantha's "relationship" Give you an insight into some of the things they used to do. Just a heads up it's a slightly dirty chapter.  
**

Tuesdays and Wednesdays were always difficult for Samantha. She had become used to seeing Brandon on those days and now they were empty. The fact that today was Thursday didn't make much of a difference. She could look around the office on any given day and be reminded of Brandon. Today Ezra just happened to be sitting on right cushion at the wrong time. And Samantha was sure she wouldn't be able to take much more of the torture. Ezra didn't understand the tears that welled up in the corners of her eyes when he suggested dinner at the new Japanese place down the street.

**Before **

"Truth or dare?" Brandon had arrived at her office after group with a dinner of sushi and sake. It was late and the office had closed for the day. Brandon and Sam were alone for the evening. Samantha arraigned the cushions, books and lit candles so they could eat Japanese style on the floor.

"What?" she asked blinking her eyes at the question.

"Truth or dare?"

"Isn't that a game for half naked cheerleaders in horror movies right before the axe murder comes?"

"Yes," he agreed, "Half naked cheerleaders and people who are trying to find out more about you."

"So you want the truth?"

"You can pick dare, I'll just dare you to tell the truth."

"It's a dangerous game Brandon, someone could end up naked on the ledge. How'd we explain that?"

"I won't go in that direction if you don't."

"O.K., promise, cross my heart hope to die, stick a needle in my eye." She said crossing her index finger over her chest. She felt this game ridiculous but thought she might be able to get information from Brandon just as he was looking to get from her.

"Well?" he pressed.

"Ummmm, gee I don't know, what should I choose? Ummmm I guess umm." She continued to shift, biting her lip, if he wanted to play this ridiculous game she was going to play along. "Well I guess." She dragged out each word. Brandon continued to wait, sipping his drink. He was slightly amused by the fuss she was making.

After a heavy sigh she finally said, "Truth I guess, no wait truth, yeah truth it's truth."

"Was that so painful?"

"Tread carefully my young padawan." She cautioned. "You might get more than you bargained for."

Brandon smiled and downed his drink in one gulp. "I'll take it easy on you for now." He paused shifted his gaze right as if he were thinking of the right question to ask. "Why aren't you married or something?"

"OK one, how is that taking it easy and two '_or something'_ what is that supposed to be?"

Brandon shrugged, "Well?"

"I have a thing." She confessed.

"A thing?"

"Yeah."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I may or may not have a bad habit."

"And?"

"Well let's just say I'm less than virtuous."

"MEANING?"

"I have on occasion, I may not, I can't seem to..."

"You cheat?"

"Kinda."

"I'm shocked."

"Well before you go and call me a whore, I've technically only had 3 serious boyfriends."

"But you've cheated on all of them."

Sam was silent and looked down. She was not extremely proud of herself but she was also hoping he wouldn't ask what she was most worried about. It was true she had cheated on all of her serious boyfriends. Samantha had also cheated on most everyone she dated. She didn't need to be in a long term or serious relationship to do it, once she felt it was close to serious Samantha panicked and drove down the road to self-sabotage. More often than not that road lead straight Ezra. It scared Samantha that Brandon may discover that nugget of information and she resolved to lie if he asked anything relatively close to that. Instead Brandon nodded as if he had expected this which hurt Samantha more than anything. It is one thing to be a cheater but to be called out was embarrassing and depressing. She was starting to regret her compliance to this game.

Brandon sat back and refilled his glass then Samantha's.

"My turn to ask?"

"Yeah," he said nodding.

"Truth or dare?"

"Well I really don't want to find myself out on the ledge naked, truth."

"Why don't you want to talk about your sister?"

"That's an analyst question."

"No it's a girlfriend question."

"Is that what we are? Boyfriend/girlfriend?" he asked, anxious about the inference of the word.

"Answer the question."

"It's complicated," he said matter-of-factly. "Truth or dare?"

"Wait you didn't answer mine."

"Yes I did, my relationship with Sissy is extremely complicated. It's too long and difficult to discuss, my turn."

"I don't think I like this game."

"Don't give a crap you didn't bother to learn the rules. Truth or dare?"

"I don't want to play anymore." Samantha said getting up.

"Sit," Brandon ordered. Samantha stayed still unsure if she wanted to continue this game however she may in fact get information from Brandon about his sister or anything else she wanted to know. So she sat back down but turned to the side, subconsciously closing herself off. She downed the small cup of sake and her head swirled. She should really stop drinking she thought but allowed Brandon to refill the cup again.

"Truth, that's what you want right?" she said almost pouting.

"How many men have you slept with?"

"Well that one's easy," she said, putting out her hand and ticking off her fingers. "It's like…" she paused looked down at her hands. "Like twelvtwenty"

"Is that a number?"

"It sounds like a number."

"Yes while I agree it sounds like a number it sounds like a number I don't like."

"Which one twelve or twenty?"

"Is it twelve?"

"No it's closer to twenty."

"How much closer?"

"We might as well say 20, it's a nice round number, it sounds better." He raised his eyebrows at her but stayed silent.

"My turn," she said downing her glass and grimacing. "I hate sake." She said smiling drunkenly. "Dare." She said suddenly.

"Dare? OK what's the dare?"

"I dare you," she said thinking, "I dare you not to get aroused." She put her hands on either side of her skirt and gathered it up in her hands sliding the skirt slowly up over her knees and thighs. She looked to Brandon to see if he was watching, he was, with a half-smile over his face. She continued to pull the skirt up, attempting to seduce him but suddenly apprehensive if any of her techniques would work.

Her hands arrived at her hips and she hooked her thumbs around the sides of her underwear and pulled them slowly down over her thighs. Her skirt went with them as she pulled obscuring the important bits, but Brandon's imagination had no problem filling in the rest. Once her underwear was off she stretched out her legs splaying her toes but kept her knees together. She still faced away from him and Brandon waited for her to turn and spread her leg for him but instead she went to her blouse pulled it free from the waist band of her skirt and undid the top buttons. She was wearing a black sheer bra and she rubbed at her nipples. Brandon noted not much coaxing was needed to get their attention today. She didn't break eye contact while she continued to rub her legs over each other, bicycling the right one up over the left then switching to the left, bringing that one up over its counterpart, each one coming up just enough to show one bare ass cheek to him. She kept her eyes on him hoping this was just as exciting as what typically turned him on. What would she need to do to turn him on, what gets Brandon hot? Was there a line that Brandon wouldn't cross? Something that he thought was too crass?

"O.K." he said putting his hands up in mock surrender.

"What?" she asked her thumb and forefinger were still working her nipple and her legs rubbed faster and faster.

"I'm done, I lost the dare," she smiled mischievously.

"So what does that mean?" She asked.

"You have to think of a punishment for me." Her eyes widened and she bit her bottom lip.

"Oh ok um since we are both here." She said opening her legs.

Brandon was happy to oblige. He pushed dinner out of the way and crawled over to her.

"If I must." He laid down on his stomach putting his hand out to her legs and turning her towards him.

"You must you must." She insisted leaning back on the cushions, bending up her knees and letting them fall open. He positioned himself between her legs then paused. He looked to the remnants of their dinner. Smiled wider, he stuck his finger in the wasabi taking a generous portion on his finger then ran it down his tongue. He winched and visibly shuddered. He stopped himself from closing his mouth and swallowing to get rid of the bitter concoction.

"Brandon," she breathed shaking her head at him but making no move to stop him.

The warm condiment was setting his tongue on fire and he knew it would do the same or worse to her. He went between her legs using the skirt to cover his head and stuck his tongue out. As soon as he touched her flesh she jumped and squealed. He knew it was more out of the anticipation of the act than anything else. He placed his hands high on her thighs and pulled her close. She fought against him pushing on his shoulders but he held fast and won out. She could sense his warm breath and tongue pushing in the folds. It didn't immediately burn and she thought her fears were unfounded but then she felt it, the searing pain spreading up and down over her skin. She bucked her hips up, twisting in his grip. He dug his hands in and pulled her too him. He continued to push his tongue into each of her crevasses, sharing the stinging heat of the paste. As he went on he started to feel the familiar shudders her body made as she started to get close to her climax. He held on, licking and spreading the green fire all around. She stopped resisting against him and allowed the agony. The sounds he made as he worked she found just as arousing as the act itself and she stiffed as her orgasm ravaged through her.

He stayed buried in between her legs, her skirt had pushed up, gathered around her waist and no longer covering his head. Samantha settled back down into the pillows. She waited for her breath to return to normal, for her heart to stop racing. Her skin still tingled and she was sure there was still wasabi somewhere. She had a horrid image of sitting in the emergency room trying to explain to the doctor exactly how she managed to get wasabi in a place that should never have it.

"You're spicy now." Brandon said coming up to her.

"Ew," she said. She looked at him, his face was covered with both his saliva and her moisture. "Gross."

"Well you do squirt a lot."

"Why would you say that?" she whined. He didn't think it possible but she flushed bright pink and covered her face with her hands. Brandon reached out and pulled her hands away from her face. She turned her head from him. He lent down and rubbed the wetness from his face on hers. She screamed and tried to pull away from him but he held her hands tight. She laughed and tried to break free from him but quickly gave up and allowed him to rub. When he stopped she pecked his cheek and sucked in his lips. Brandon pressed his lips to her and started to push his tongue into her mouth but a clatter in the outer office called both their attention. They looked at each other both wondering who it was.

Samantha tried not to panic, even though she had convinced herself it was Ezra. They shot up and struggled to correct their clothing. Once she was fully dressed she picked up her underwear and paused. Samantha decided against putting her panties back on figuring it would take too much time instead she shoved them under one of the cushions in the sofa reminding herself to retrieve them later. Brandon who hadn't yet had the opportunity to undress smoothed his shirt ran his fingers several times through his hair and used a bundle of napkins to wipe at his face. He tossed several to Samantha who used them in a similar fashion.

Once Samantha had finished fixing her shirt and skirt she turned to Brandon and whispered, "How do I look?"

"Like someone who just had a really good pussy licking," he laughed. She reached out and tried to smack his arm with her hand but he ducked it easily. He went to the door expecting to open it but she dove in front of him pushing him out of the way.

She opened her office door sure it was Ezra checking up on her instead she was almost happy she was mistaken, it was the admin assistant Mia rummaging through her desk.

Samantha laughed nervously. Delighted to have avoided Ezra but embarrassed at being caught in the situation, although she didn't think she had much to worry about, Mia wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.

"Oh, Samantha, I didn't think you would still be here," Mia said without looking up. "You know I decided to do a little shopping before going home, I find a great pair of Jimmy Choo's on sale for God sake and I didn't have my wallet." Mia slammed closed her bottom drawer and finally looked up. She paused staring wide eyed at the sight before her. Samantha looked like she had just gone 5 rounds with Mike Tyson and behind her stood the patient she hadn't seen in the office in months. He stood partially obstructed by Samantha but he couldn't hide the obvious bulge that ballooned his pants. What was his name again Brad, Brace?

"Oh I'm sorry," she finally managed to stutter, "I didn't realize you were with a patient."

"No, no its fine you just startled us. We weren't expecting..." Samantha trailed off and Mia could assume why. Before she was hired there was a specific lecture she received about fraternizing with the patients. Both Samantha and Dr. Ezra made it quite clear while they didn't have any dangerous patients she, needn't worry about the ones patients they did have. But it was pressed upon her that the patients would not heal if the relationship in the office wasn't kept professional. Which made the scene that was currently unfolding before her eyes a little surprising. What was his name again, Braddock, Bradford?

"Oh," Sam grabbed her stomach and folded over.

"Are you ok?" Mia asked

"Yeah yeah it's just, uhm, something, ah, that I ate." Sam continued to twist her body in an unusual contortionist stance. She could feel the wasabi working its way into places it shouldn't be going. Brandon turned a concerned look to Sam.

"Do you need something?"

"NO!" she practically screamed. She shot an evil look to Brandon. He was sure he would pay for the wasabi and he was looking forward to it. "I mean, no, sorry, it's just, excuse me." She said walking strangely back to her office.

"Did you need to reschedule?" Mia asked Brandon.

"No, that's not necessary. I have to get somewhere." He smiled and left.

Mia moved a folder on her desk and found her wallet. She wondered briefly if this was the thing Ezra asked her to look out for. She wasn't sure so she decided to keep it t o herself.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry for the delay, but I was thinking of a story to enter in the 'So You Think You Can Write' contest which happens to be a romance novel contest and my sister doesn't think I can do it. So you'll have to go and vote for my chapter once I submit it to prove her wrong no matter if it stinks. Now with delays also come hurriedly edited chapters so this may be bad. I figured I needed to wrap this up pretty soon and I am sad to see it go but of course these things can't go on forever. **

Samantha was unsure who she was any more. There was the part of her that needed to keep the idea that there still was a Brandon and Samantha, the high school teenager that still believed in romance and true love. He would show up at her office and they would ride off into the sunset, there would be a happily ever after for them. Then there was the other half (2/3's was more like it) that knew there was no B plus S with the little heart around it. No more secret dates, no 'sleepfucking'. The realest that knew it was truly BS and it was all her fault.

She had convinced herself that what they were doing had the impression of intimacy, it would give Brandon the time to acclimate himself to the idea of a relationship. Dating one woman but sleeping with another. Someone who didn't make demands, didn't come with baggage or require anything from him. If he caught a fight with his girlfriend he could still go and bang the hot chic he was seeing on the side. But for all the convincing she was doing to put the responsibility to Brandon, in reality, it was best for her.

She was sure the fear of commitment monster that haunted her would be silenced under this odd arraignment. They were fuck buddies free to pursue whatever or whoever caught their fancy, there would not be a problem if they resumed the lifestyle they each had before they met. The only problem was no one had interested Samantha more than Brandon and she had thought for a time he felt the same way. That night at the movies had all but assured her of that. Her lust was sedated each time she saw him. He didn't need to be inside her to do it. Each night didn't always end with his come drying between her legs, although it was always nice when it did.

She sat behind her desk hoping Ezra would leave before she made what she knew would be the ultimate mistake. Samantha resisted Ezra for as long as she could. In her mind sleeping with Ezra was the equivalent of driving the last nail in the coffin of her and Brandon's relationship, putting to rest any doubt she had that they were through. Removing any hope she and Brandon would be together again. Whatever metaphor you wanted to use, use it her mind screamed, just don't sleep with Ezra.

Truth be told he was just a little more than pissed. He had gotten rid of Brandon quite a few months ago it shouldn't have taken this long to get back into Samantha's bed. He suspected there was no confrontation between the two or she would have been with him that night. So far she had resisted him. Ezra also suspected she had met someone to take Brandon's place or had fallen back into the bed of an old lover. Ezra knew Samantha almost as well as she knew herself Samantha had an insatiable need which is why they had met in the first place. He was getting irritated that he had to work this hard at all, it was the first time he ever had to wait for her. Sure there were times when she would pretend to be mad but that was usually temporary, Samantha couldn't, no, wouldn't stay away from him for that long.

"Well again I think that's the fastest we've ever done a review." Ezra said stretching out. Samantha didn't respond she said nothing and kept quiet. "UGH, it's been a long day, a long week for that matter." Ezra finished stacking the folders and relaxed back into the sofa. "Why don't you come over here," he placed his legs up on the coffee table in front of him, "Help me relax." She stayed silent and stayed where she was.

"You know," Ezra said, trying a different tactic. "Brandon hasn't been to group in months, have you seen him recently?" Samantha shook her head, no not in the last 6 months, 2 weeks and 3 days, you would have to give her a minute on the hours.

"Really?" he asked hoping the surprise sounded genuine. "I would have figured he would keep in touch with you." She was aware of what he was doing. Attempting to point out what she was missing and what was there to take. But Samantha ignored him, although a night with Ezra would accomplish a lot of things, he would have easily released the pressure she was feeling lately, get rid of the pent up energy she had. Plus the relief would have longer lasting effects than anything her finger or the drawer full of battery operated devices, could achieve.

As if Ezra could read her mind he got up from the sofa and walked over to the desk. He sat down in front of her, his crotch close and eye level. She took a deep breath. She was going to ignore him, she was going to resist the temptation of falling into bed with him again. She wasn't going to look at the bulge in his pants. She wasn't going to think about how he could go all night. She wasn't going to remember how big he was. She instead tried to remember how much of an ass he could be. How he really did nothing but think of himself. Here he was in front of her, with a hard on, trying to get in her pants when he had someone at home. Of course she wasn't much better, sleeping with a patient, sleeping with Ezra when she knew he was practically married. He wasn't going to get her tonight. No, she wasn't going to go make that mistake. She wasn't going to undo the buckle on his belt but she did, she knew she wasn't going to undo the button on his pants but did. Not going to unzip the zipper, but that went as well.

He smiled down at her as she took him in both hands. She tasted him, running her tongue down his thick pole slowly, almost timidly. His face twitched as shivers ran down his spine and through his legs. She went faster and only paused a moment when she wondered if Ezra would have appreciated the fact that Brandon taught her the fine are of a good hand job. Nice and wet so her hands slid easily, not just the shaft but over the head as well. Going quickly, slowing down, squeezing tightly, pressing down at the base, running her tongue over the tip then pushing it into the hole at the top, slowing down to make him last longer. Her hands slid up and down and over, learning the differences and quickly accommodating to cover as much of him as possible. She wished she had another hand so she could work on herself. There was a lone growl that came up from his throat she pulled back from him, knowing he was close but refusing him the satisfaction of an easy release. He lost his balance and almost fell forward into the space she left.

"What, what are you doing?" he said breathlessly. She sat back, looked up and him and chewed on her pinky nail.

"Come back over here." She pushed farther away refusing to complete what she had started.

"Fine." He said matter-of-factly. He slid off the desk picked her up from the chair pulling her skirt up over her bare ass in the process. He smiled at her, knowing she needed what only he could give. He decided he would make her beg. Make her scream for him.

He sat her down on the desk. He took his rock hard member and ran it around the sensitive flesh between her legs. He teased her smooth skin. She had allowed a small "soul patch" of hair to grow back, which is what Ezra played with right now, running his stiff shaft around the outside all the way up to her rear, pushing the tip into the tight hole. He wondered briefly if she allowed Brandon there.

She lay back on the desk spreading her legs form him. He forced her legs open wider, making her grimace in pain. He bent down burrowing against her flesh. He was gentle at first, playing his nose around the creases, opening his mouth, sticking out his tongue, and forcing his hot breath on her skin. She wiggled and squired under him, soft oohs and ahs escaping from her mouth. He turned his teeth on her, biting the sensitive nub. She screamed in pain and clamped her knees around his head. He yelped more in surprise than in pain. He forced her legs open.

"You'll regret that." He spat placing his fingers between her legs and then forcing them inside. They slid in effortlessly since she was always ready. He pulled them out then forced them back inside, spaying his fingers open once they were buried inside her. She shifted uncomfortably underneath him, putting a satisfying smug smile on his face. His fingers continue to piston in and out of her, warm insides, he eased back and went gently, causing more of her essences to flow. He could feel Samantha fighting against the urge to buck against him. Was she so used to the 'sleep' game she played with Brandon that she wanted to do it with him? That was not how Ezra wanted her nor would it be the way he would have her. He was being rough, but she was not going to nap through this. He pulled back his fingers, and stepped out of his pants. He pushed her skirt further up so it rested around her waist. He pushed up her shirt, squeezing the breast, pinching the nipples to hardness, making her move as she twisted and fought against him.

He then debated on finding out if she could take his hand, his fist then thought better of it, he had a better idea for her. He pulled her off the desk, flipped her over, and kicked open her legs. He pushed his hard member into her warm wet flesh, taking full advantage of her moisture, soaking himself. Samantha gave in and took him in eagerly, she arched her back and pushed against him. She held onto the desk pushing against him faster and faster. She came screaming, raining more wetness down between both of them. She collapsed down on the desk, but he wasn't going to let her rest. He pulled out of her wet delicious V and pushed into the tight puckered hole going quickly, spreading her painfully open. She inhaled sharply fighting against him, but he held her fast.

"Ezra!" she screamed. He was too big and going too fast. He pulled her up against him.

"That's it beg me!"

"Ezra please," she pleaded.

"No," he said calmly and pushed deep inside and pulled slowly back out. He set up a rhythm, almost like he was keeping time with a metronome. She hated this methodical approach he had. He would hold this tempo, this slow pounding, no matter how much she begged and pleaded with him to go faster. If she tried he would punish her by slowing even further, or stopping all together leaving her without relief. She never understood his need to have this his way. She doubted she ever would.

He held on to her shoulders and pushed inside her, deeper and deeper with each thrust. Her soft sighs turned into deep moans into choked screams.

"Ezra please," she begged again.

"You won't sleep through this."

"What? What?" she asked unable to grasp what he just said.

"Your boyfriend told us what you do, what you guys did." He corrected continuing his thrusts.

"Get off me," she said flatly pushing up. He made no attempt to stop his stabs, but was unable to go as deep as he wanted.

"Get off!" she said again, standing up straighter. She pushed back against him he lost his balanced and pin wheeled his arms in an attempt to regain his balance. He lost the battle and fell into the chair. He caught it with the back of his legs but the casters slipped and he fell down hard, rattling his teeth.

"Sam, get back over here and help me up." She ignored him pulling quickly down at her skirt and shirt struggling to right them.

"This is what it was all about?" she screeched. "Your sadistic need for control?" she ran to the door.

"Sam, get back over here!" he yelled, struggling to his feet.

"You sick heartless bastard." She turned looking at him. "You're pathetic." He crossed the floor with surprising speed, grabbed her arms, pulled her close and screamed in her face.

"I'm pathetic? You're nothing but a needy whore, who spreads her legs for any willing cock." He shook her violently as he said this.

"A whore you're eager enough to fuck." She spat back at him. "Get off me," she commanded again.

"Go, I hope you and your dysfunctional tool are happy together." He dropped her arms.

She balled up her fists and punched him, striking him on his nose. He went down to his knees, she brought her own knee up, she just brushed his chin but it made her happy just the same. She left the office and was half a block away before she realized she didn't have her shoes. She slowed but didn't stop, she wasn't exactly sure where she was headed but for the first time in her life she felt free of Ezra.


	13. Chapter 13

**I do apologize for such a long pause in the Brandon/Samantha story. But unfortunately Brandon doesn't like to talk, I'm trying but that guy is messed up. Please forgive the errors.  
**

Brandon slid into the booth and glanced around the diner assessing the room, it was 4 a.m. they had the restaurant nearly to themselves. There were a few others inside keeping warm out of the uncooperative February weather. It had rained and continued off and on. The slick streets shone from the light the lamps, buildings and traffic threw at it. Brandon stared across the booth at Samantha, who stared back at him.

Half of him was trying to remember why he needed to see her why he needed to be here, the other half was trying to forget. Brandon sat shifting, waiting for the courage to tell her he needed her to get away from him. It has been months since he has seen her. His eyes pour over her warm tan skin, her dirty blond hair, and her brilliant eyes.

How has he done without her for so long? Every part of him aches to have her again. Run his hands over her skin, feeling the small imperfections her body held. The image of her laying on the table, her naked skin slick with sweat runs across his mind and refuses to leave. He longs to feel the sensation of himself buried deep within her tight warm insides. He needs to feel how her muscles tighten and press on him when she comes and the rush of wetness that follows. Drawn up next to her listening as her breath comes back to normal.

The bell over the door of the diner rings announcing the arrival of new customers into the restaurant breaking the spell of his fantasy. He looked towards the door, two police officers walk in, male and female, they take a seat at the counter. Brandon looks back at Samantha.

"I could have waited for you to dress," he said nodding to her cleavage.

Samantha looked down. Her raincoat was pulled over a lacy slip she had slipped on when she heard Brandon at the door. She tugged at the sides covering her bare skin.

"You sounded um, it seemed urgent." She muttered. She had left her apartment without donning anything more than her coat and a pair of rain boots. She was horribly exposed but needed to be, wanted to be with Brandon.

Her own fantasy ran through her mind. Brandon's head buried in between her legs, his tongue lapping and tickling her flesh. Hungrily attacking her with a ferocity she hasn't been able to match no matter how many lovers she took to her bed. He would wait for her to scream, jerk and release the fluid he loved so much. She would return the favor of course swallowing him down, tasting the salty and bitter cream he would pump into her down her throat as he held her head in place and his hips thrust up, his body stiffing. She holds on to this image she needs this picture.

"What can I getcha?" the waitress asks standing over their table.

They both shift uncomfortably, flushing at being caught in their own fantasy, when the object so close.

"Just coffee for now please." He ordered.

"Hot tea," she countered. "With lemon."

The waitress smiles pissy, another 10 cent tip she thinks and walks away from the table. She looks over her shoulder at the strange couple. She can feel the electricity between the pair but there was something deeper going on with them. She just hopes they don't explode in here and is glad for the cop company.

Samantha picks at a corner of the table, the metal strip around the edge is loose and it has become a distraction for her fingers. She's had so many things she wanted to say to him, so many things she wanted to tell him but suddenly the words are stuck in her throat and cannot come lose. Can he read her mind can she send him what she needs to tell him telepathically. He seemed to know he so well before, not backing down when she tried to set so many boundaries, why didn't he know her now?

"I've tried to call you." She manages to squeak out.

"Yes," he said looking into her face, "You've become the ghost on my machine."

She hangs her head. It's true she had called him several times. Hanging on his answering machine quietly holding hoping the right formation of words would come into her mind and she would be able to get her and Brandon back to the place that felt so good for both of them.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted to hear from me." She said, her fingers picking at the edge faster.

"I don't." he said flatly.

A cold shiver moved through her. It wasn't what she wanted to hear.

It was a lie he was trying to convince himself to be true, it wasn't how he felt at all. There was nothing more that he wanted than to be inside her. To fall asleep, wake up, to eat, drink and live lost in her. But she was wrong from him she had successfully broken him. Broken to the point that he lost all hope of being fixed, he had tried. How do you explain the only way you want someone was when they lay unmoving in your bed. It wasn't right. Seeing her was his last resort.

Her calls had become part of his nightly routine. Not the incessant sign song voice he had come to expect from Sissy when she had called but instead hers were a silent reminder that he could never be done with her, he _would_ never be done with her, if he didn't do something about it. He thought it would be easier to look at her. Maybe not easier but nicer. He had dreamt about her and couldn't lose her eyes. Or the sweet smell of her skin, the pleasant sensation of running his hand over her leg and thigh to the soft tuft of hair that lay between her legs. He wondered briefly if she was still smooth. He hadn't been given the proper time to spend with her velvet skin before they were unceremoniously ripped apart. Which he had done, he took the blame on that one. He had been unable silence the condescension of Dr. Ezra's words which had led to him retreat from her world. A retreat that was premature or at least untimely. He hadn't had his fill of her just yet. But the forces that denied his return to her were as potent as those that were trying to bring them back.

Dr. Ezra had placed his words well. They needled into Brandon's world and attached themselves like an appendage. A constant companion that could be dulled but not sedated. They were usually joined by the silent reproaching looks he had received from Kathy in group and on bad days they could be followed by Davis's own berating at finding Brandon's computer. Brandon wore this humiliation like a cloak. It has surrounded him, enveloped him. It was his chaperon through life.

Ezra had hated Brandon from day one, jealousy was what Brandon continued to associate with the hatred he would get from time to time from those around him. Jealous they themselves longed for the freedom he had the liberating independence. That allowed Brandon to do and experience, anything and everything he needed. He would wonder occasionally if the jealously was directed solely at Brandon's lifestyle or who he to the fact that he was sleeping with the woman across from him.

Brandon's leg bounced as he assessed his continuing problem. Right now he wanted the woman seated across from him. No that wasn't entirely correct. He needed the woman in front of him. He needed her mouth on his, his hands on her breast playing toying teasing the nipples her hand in his lap, squeezing stroking him until he comes. He could not purge the sensation of her orgasm, the milking pulse of her inner muscles, the restraint she used to lay still, holding while her body betrayed clues to her delirium. The state of ecstasy he would send her too, he couldn't help but remember.

He slammed his fist into the table in frustration making her jump, her hand drags across the broken part on the table. The cops at the counter turn as well.

"You O.K. over there buddy?" the male asks.

"Yes," Brandon turns to them, puts on a friendly smile that doesn't quiet catch his eyes. "Sorry about that." He was about to make a comment about how he thought he saw a bug when the female officer nodded to Samantha.

"Are you O.K. ma'am?"

Brandon turned to look at Samantha, she had one hand cradled in the other. The cradled hand was wrapped with napkins from the cheap dispenser.

"I'm fine thanks, just cut my hand."

"Shoot," the waitress swore under her breath. "Ya'll need a Band-Aid or somethin'?"

"No, no I'm O.K. It's alright," she said smiling. She was better at faking it than Brandon was. Her smile set a sparkle in her eye reminding him how much he needed the days back with her as well as the nights.

"Samantha I'm sor-"

"No, it's O.K. look it just looks worse than it is." She said briefly lifting the napkins to peak at her hand. "Maybe you should tell me what you wanted." She said turning a quick worried look to the officers then back to Brandon.

She thought she read hatred on the male officer. She was pretty sure it wasn't directed at her. But of course there were so many reasons people could hate one another take you pick, she was dark skinned, plenty of people still hated your guts because of the color of that. She was pretty as well, there could have been a pretty girl in his history that had wronged him, so now he hated them all. Of course he could just be a woman hater regardless of what she looked like. He could also just hate the world. Cops were taught everyone else was the asshole, the bad guy. Some couldn't get past that.

"World Bad," she thought to herself in Frankenstein monster's voice. In truth it was the female officer concerned her a bit more. She had looked at Brandon greedily, it was just a flash and Samantha couldn't have been absolutely sure it was there but she didn't want to stay around to see it again.

"Why don't you just tell me what you wanted to see me about."

"I want us to stop. I want you to stop calling me. Leave me alone." His voice didn't sound certain and he looked down as he said it.

She narrowed her eyes and twisted her face to him.

"I find that hard to believe." She had promised herself if she was going to calm, demure, rational. Instead her words sounded bitter in her own ears, cocky and self-serving. She no longer wanted to be the bad guy, no longer wanted to shoulder all of the blame for this bad break up.

"Why do you find it hard to believe?" He asked.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked gesturing around. "You could have easily said your piece back at my apartment, you could have easily told me what you wanted me to hear with a phone call for that matter, why see me at all?" She stopped her speech, almost embarrassed to have said it. But she believed every word. There was a reason why he had to see her. She figured it was the same reason she ached to see him.

"I'm not that transparent." He said hotly, angry she was right. Hating her for exposing him. "You've done this to me. I thought you were here to heal me, to _help me_." He said throwing herwords back at her. The heat rose to his face, his voice a harsh spitting whisper. The woman he wanted to be inside of only minutes ago, he was now struggling not to reach out grab by her shoulders and shake until her teeth rattled.

"I came here because I didn't want you poisoning me. You're damaged and bringing down as many as you can. How many patients have you fucked?" She flinched looking wounded, he wanted to stop but he went on. "I'm sure I'm not your first, I'm sure I am in a long line of many." He reached out and snatched her cut hand. Blood dripped on the table and painted his hand.

"I don't want you near me anymore. I don't need you near me or around me. You've done enough damage to me." He squeezed her hand, she winced at the pain from how he held and pressed her hand as well as the sharpness of his tone. He pinched her hand, pressing and twisting it. Her faced contorted and she pulled back her hand struggling to pull it away from him.

"Brandon, I understand you are upset. If you would just talk to me-"

"Upset," he snapped. "You take my life and break me beyond repair and you think I'm upset?" he said pressing her hand harder still. "You've damage me beyond repair, do you think anyone wants me now, do you think I could have anyone the way I am?"

"I think you should let her go." The male cop stood at the head of the table, his flash light was out and pointing at Brandon, the other hand rested on the butt of his gun.

Brandon looked first at the flashlight leveled in his face to the hand that held Samantha's. His faced softened and turned a concerned look to Samantha. He dropped her hand quickly. Samantha took it back and clasped a fist full of napkins back to her injured spot.

Brandon expected her to make the same apologies she had previously, appease the cop so he would go away, but she stayed silent. She studied her hand for a few moments and looked to the cop standing near their table. They appraised each other silently. Samantha's mind made up that his interference was less a concern for her safety and more of an obligation, a duty to appear authoritative to the others in the diner.

She looked to Brandon, searching his face for compassion but finding none.

"Thank you officer," she said sliding out of the bench seat. Without another look to Brandon she stood, turned and walked out of the diner.


End file.
